It was one of those days when each thing I did was more beautiful than the next--picking blueberries before breakfast, taking a break after lunch to pick cherries and raspberries at a friend's farm in the north end of the county, and then an outdoor dinner and lingering in a more central section of the county. Even the weekly task of mowing the grass went quickly. We are finally home to pause with the dog and the fireflies. Last winter, when we were in Tasmania our friends (partially joking) asked us not to tell folks at home how beautiful it was. They suggested that when we posted images online we should mark them with the hash tag hideous. So I guess it was one of those hideous days here in Virginia.
The most beautiful thing in the evening are the fireflies. They arise on all sides in droves of millions. Once I paused while down the creek; I looked westward and gasped with the beauty. As if by some preconceived plan they all flashed simultaneously. It was like some wonderful strain of music. They rivaled the starry night in splendor. Blackness of night accentuates them.
--Charles Burchfield, June 13, 1914
--Charles Burchfield, June 13, 1914
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