Voices from the porch drained in and out of the front room window. Some of these voices were loud and distinguished, while others became unrecognizable due to the chirping crickets outside. Out the window I could see that the sun had gone down and in its place sat a bright moon and scattered stars. It was my first summer in my grandma’s new house in Illinois. She had just finished moving furniture into the guest bedroom and decided it was time for us to visit. I didn’t particularly hate being at my grandma’s house, but her house is isolated from most anything, which didn’t make for the most eventful trips. The only thing really special about where my grandma lived was the outside. Our family spent most of the time on the porch because of the peaceful sounds the animals would make as night fell. That’s where my family was tonight.

I could see them out the window tucked under blankets and sitting in the rocking chairs. I grabbed my jacket and some shoes and made my way to the door. As I stepped outside, the cold air brushed against me, making me shiver. Fireflies covered the sky, their light flashing like a heartbeat. I sat down on the cold porch steps watching as the bugs wandered curiously in the air, constantly changing directions. My grandma walked out onto the porch to join the small talk and the rest of my relatives. “Beautiful, isn’t it?” My grandma said looking at me as she sat in her chair. “There’s a jar over there if you want to try and catch some.” I nodded as I picked up a jar and made my way into the grass and towards the fireflies. I wondered how they all flashed simultaneously as if they were being controlled by a remote. They flew from the grass to the trees aimlessly, in no sense of direction or destination. I began to catch the fireflies, still in awe of their beauty. For hours I stood in the grass outside my grandma’s house chasing the fireflies and catching them in jars. I ran through my grandma’s small house looking for the darkest rooms, then watching as the fireflies gave them glimpses of light.

I can still picture running through the cold grass trying to catch them, but I still don’t know why I remember. I guess it was kind of like going on a rollercoaster for the first time or riding a bike by yourself for the first time. It was something that doesn’t even really matter, but it was new to me. Maybe seeing something for the first time made me realize how big our world really is. There’s so much we haven’t seen and so much more were going to see. Sometimes only the smallest things can remind us of that. Maybe I remember it because I was with my family. You don’t get to bond with your family all the time, so maybe it was the feeling of togetherness that helped me remember. Sometimes I guess we can’t explain why we remember things, we just do. Those memories seem to be my favorites.