As the sun dipped beneath the horizon and the street lights began to glow, a phenomenon manifested itself. Small creatures with wings weaved in and out of branches, leaves. To us, David and I, they were fairies. The very essence of nature. Clumsy til the end, they hit every surface with a fiery passion.
As children, in our respective homes, we collected them and observed them. They had swollen heads, spindly legs. Their bodies were hard. Yet in this disastrous state of being, they were graceful. Each leg, all six, had fibers that helped them cling to your clothing.
We adored their presence. Every June, like clockwork, they would gradually infiltrate our neighborhoods.
Under the light, they were glorious, proof of an invisible hand. No, not toys but sentient beings.
Their wings were ethereal. Like a choir, they wavered on a single note. It was a beautifully ambient earworm. As the numbers swelled, so did our hearts.
I must ask you – have you seen them? Have you made them feel welcome?
If you don’t feel their magic first, they’ll certainly make themselves scarce.