Today was different.

Today was different. I should have known it when I woke up, but I didn't. I should have known it when I watched the rain fall, but I didn't. Today was different...

I was returning from dropping my youngest sister off at a friend's house. I, much to the dismay of the passenger who had graciously accompanied me throughout a crazy day with my family, was suffering, as usual, from musical fickleness. I must've pressed the 'shuffle' button nearly two-dozen times before I finally found a song I thought suited the weather, and more importantly, suited my guest. I am not one to try to impress others too much, but I didn't want to select something that would upset my friend's otherwise-never-upset stomach.

Finally, "Mrs. Darcy" from the Pride and Prejudice (2005) Soundtrack rescued us from my 'shuffle' indecisiveness. It was dark as we decided where I should park - on the road or on the grass, next to the Jeep, where my headlights poured light into the woods that surround our house. After some hesitation, I chose the grass. As I put my car in park, it happened.

From the thickness and darkness of trees tightly wrapped around my house a single, infinitesimal light flashed, then disappeared. As the music rose and fell, miniature illuminations shone from all around the patch of trees in front of my car. I turned off my headlights and engine in order to better enjoy the unattended moment. This was the first lightning bug dance of the summer.

I'm not sure if it was the music, the lights, the company, the thoughts of impending uncertain futures without the ones I love, or a combination of it all, but I was brought to my knees more than I have been for nearly a year by a handful of insects less than an inch long. I felt what I have been waiting for, praying to feel, and haven't felt for a long time.

My passenger and I sat enraptured, dumbfounded at the sight before us. We, the fireflies' secret audience, should have been embarassed to witness this beautiful ritual. Still, our gaze held, our hearts being pulled so, we felt no embarassment, did not look away.

Eventually, the song ended; the twilight spell was broken. I reluctantly pulled my key from the ignition, gathered my bag and my composure, and walked up the driveway into the crowded house of those who had not witnessed. Life moved on, and on, and so it goes. But, today was different.