Hear me now...

I was walking along the rocky trail down by the lake just the other night when I spotted a firefly. It was just crawling along the cold ground, completely ignorant of my presence. The small creature was simply going about its nightly duty of whatever fireflies do. I slowly crouched down and gently put my hand down next to this tiny wonder. It crawled up onto my hand.

I stood up with the firefly's glowing presence still scrambling around on my hand and sleeve. To it, I was just another plant, maybe bigger than usual, or differently colored than usual, but nonetheless, I was a plant. Walking once again down the path, I sheltered the bug with my cupped hand so that it wouldn't blow away or fall off. It had never experienced a plant that moved... however, it was much too small and "blind" to realize any different.

After walking nearly half of a mile to the other side of the pond, I decided, for one reason or another, that I had gone far enough. Once again, I bent over and set my hand slowly and ever so gently next to a large blade of grass.

My expectation was fulfilled and the bug unhesitantly crawled off of the sleeve of my black sweatshirt and onto the "new plant".

It realized that something had changed in the last ten minutes, or as the firefly would claim, the last four years. However, it accepted this change and realized that it was truly "meant to be". No choice, no control.

I stood up after the fluorescent bug crawled out of view. Walking away from the firefly, gazing up at the moon and stars, I thought to myself aren't we all just a bunch of fireflies.