I awoke with a start. I’m not a light sleeper, but the loud “pop” I heard was enough to rouse me. I had to see what it was so I swung my legs off the bed and made my way to the open window. Below my bedroom window I have a nice garden, neat rows, great plants, all organic. I strained my eyes in the darkness but couldn’t really make out anything out of the ordinary. Well, there was one thing: There seemed to be a congregation of lightning bugs. They were over by the squash plants. Bugs do weird things so I didn’t make much of it. The bed was calling me so I surrendered myself to sleepiness. By morning all was forgotten.
That is, until the following night. I heard it again. It was about 3:00 am. This time the pop was followed by… well, something. I couldn’t really make it out. It sounded like a cheer. Again I got up and looked out the window. Same thing. Nothing terribly unusual except the lightning bugs again, all massed together by the squash plants. There did seem to be more of them this time, but I couldn’t say for sure. I turned and again opted for bed. The following morning I did remember and walked out to the garden to look around before leaving for work. I didn’t see anything I didn’t expect to. I checked out the squash plants, the soil seem a bit matted down in the general area, but I didn’t think much of it.
It was a helluva day at work. Too much to do, too busy, too damn aggravating. And on top of it all, I came home with a small mountain of paperwork that I had to do by morning. It was all thanks to that damn Harold, a co-worker who called in sick… um, sorry, I guess I’m ranting a bit. I was upset. It looked like I’d have to work most of the night. I had a stiff drink (only one), ate dinner and went to my study to get to it. I opened my brief case, slid a copy paper box with documents next to my chair, and put pen to paper. I was focused on the task at hand. Little did I know at the time, but by the next afternoon my perception of reality would be forever altered.
I looked at the clock on my desk when I finally wrapped up my work and put things away. I was too focused to check the time before, but now that it was done, I realized it was nearly 2:30 in the morning. I was miserable. It was late, I was hungry, I ached from sitting for so long, but I wasn’t the slightest bit tired and that was the worst part. I just knew I’d be dragging my heels by that afternoon if I didn’t get some rest. But things were out of my hands. The only way I could hope to survive the day was to get to sleep fast. But it wasn’t going to happen. Maybe some fresh air would help. Not to wake me up, but to relax me a bit. I was tense and that wasn’t helping matters.
A smile came to my face. I decided to head out to the garden to see what was up out there. I was hoping I’d get a chance to see the lightning bug party or whatever it was. I put on sneakers and a long sleeve shirt. It was fairly warm, but I wanted some mosquito protection in case they were on patrol. I turned and headed for the kitchen to use the back door then stopped and returned to my desk. In hindsight I don’t know why, but I grabbed a big magnifying glass I keep on my desk for inspecting the “fine print” often found in some of the contracts I work with. Again I turned towards the kitchen. I grabbed a flashlight I keep there and headed for the door. I turned off the light and stepped outside. With the flashlight off I made my way around to the bedroom side of the house towards the garden. I tried to be quiet. I didn’t want to disturb my sleeping family I thought at the time, but maybe there was another reason. Thinking back I am positive I wanted to sneak into the garden to maintain the element of surprise. I didn’t want to startle the lightning bugs, I suppose.
I saw the garden a few yards ahead. I stopped to take it all in. It must have been close to 3:00 am by this time. Naturally I looked hard at the dimly glowing area under the squash plants wondering if I was going to hear a “pop” — the lightning bugs were there as the light confirmed so the conditions were right. I wasn’t disappointed. I stood there staring for close to a minute when it happened. “Pop!” I heard it, and saw it, too. The sound was accompanied by a flash of bright light. Then that eerie cheering. I started moving towards the source. I tried to remain quiet but I didn’t succeed. My feet tangled themselves on a coil of garden hose and I fell with a thud. That’s all that was needed. All hell broke loose. I looked up to see the light flickering and heard a confusing noise — what sounded like a very small stampede. I got up on my hands and knees crawled the last few feet on the mulched path. When I got to the squash plants I turned on the flashlight. The plants looked fine, but the soil was matted, and there was what looked like a small cloud of dust. But it wasn’t dust. The ground was damp and there was a smell. Like gunpowder. As the smoke dissipated I saw what seemed to be litter on the ground. What the hell? My hands were dirty but I rubbed my eyes anyway and peered into the scene more intently. I could not believe my eyes.
I raced back to the house, this time throwing the door open. I bolted to the downstairs bathroom and opened the medicine cabinet. I found what I was looking for, slammed the door shut and raced back through the kitchen and outside, leaving the doorway open. When I got close to the garden I stopped, got on my hands and knees, and crawled maybe fifteen yards towards the squash plants. Once in place I turned on the flashlight. There were a number of tiny insects eating the litter on the ground. But they immediately stopped and fled the scene. It happened so fast I didn’t even get a decent look at them. There was still a lot of litter on the ground so I got in close. I had taken tweezers and an empty contact lens case from the medicine cabinet. I pulled them out now and, using my magnifying glass, was able to pick up a few pieces of litter.
I must have been quite the sight. Nearly 4:00 am, lying on the damp mulch in the garden. I could have been mistaken as a victim of some horrible tragedy. Nobody saw me, though. I had placed several pieces of litter in the contact lens case and secured the top. With one piece of litter in the clutches of my tweezers, I brought it within inches of my face, the litter and I separated only by the magnifying glass. I stared. I changed the angle of the flashlight’s beam. I adjusted myself and got up further on my elbows and craned my neck. I turned the tweezers carefully. I barely had the thing so I was trying to be careful not to lose it or mangle it. It was extremely small and seemed wispy, like thin paper. It looked like paper, in fact. It was white but it was also smudged with faint colors. It was two dimensional like paper. What I’m about to tell you may sound weird — I certainly thought so at the time, myself — but the minuscule piece of litter looked like some sort of tiny flyer or poster. Amazing. I then knew what I had to next.
