Fireflies are a particularly cherished part of summer, possibly more so on the eastern coast of North America, possibly because of some unformed, vague memory of a novel I once read.  Nonetheless, the June nights when the moon is sailing high and the field grass whispers silver and green; in that rich darkness, fireflies float, pinpricks of light.  The light is nothing like that which we use, it is the white-green phosphorescence of fox-fire, lightening, and fireflies, the light of the unknown world, of magic and of wonder.

Fireflies are actually not all that good looking in the light of day, but at night…  They are also increasingly rare.  Fireflies need tall grass, goldenrod, and that host of meadow plants.  Leave a section of lawn unmowed, and the chances are very good that in New England, at least, you will have fireflies.  We are experimenting with leaving sections of lawn as meadow, as a form of visual structure, that the fireflies benefit is a pleasant benefit.*

*and the bats, the butterflies, the moths, the birds…but you know my opinion on Chem-lawn…