It’s late. I just went out to the chicken coop to make sure the girly birds were locked in for the night. I carried a flashlight, John says it’s time to watch for and be respectful of bears. Probably so, we had a mama and three cubs hanging around last summer. I peeked into the coop, 3 hens accounted for, slid the door shut. The hens made their sweet little sleepy peeps.
As I turned back toward the house, a hundred lightning bugs flickered, tiny green lights against the hill. First show of the year. I stopped to watch and listen for a few minutes. Only a star or two peeking through the clouds, a hint of moonlight. Night birds, frogs. Crickets. Light breeze, a puff from the wings of a moth.
Night magic.
Mental Farmer 
05/19/2013
From the Brain of a Mental Farmer