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Lightning Bugs

  It was the last week of April. Classes were over, and exams were just beginning. Carol had one earlier that day. I was having my first the next day. We had been studying non-stop, except for meals in the campus dining hall.

  It was freshman year, and we both had a full load, including science, math, and history. Math had been so easy in high school. Everything had been easy in high school. Away at school, I found my first challenges. Math had meant 2 to three hours of homework every day that I had math class. I took prolific notes and struggled to understand what the professor told us. Every quiz and special project had meant extra study time; mid-terms proved to be worthy of the long weekends devoted to math. Now here we were, after 4 or 5 straight days of studying from early morning until the midnight hours, and we felt overwhelmed.

  Something clicked on the way back to the dorm, only a short distance away from the dining hall. It was not quite dark, but lightning bugs abounded. We caught a few, looked at each other, then ran into our shared room. Our third roommate had gone home to study, a little over an hour a way, so that her mother could spoil her. We found an empty jar with a screw-on lid, punched some holes in it, and ran back outside.

    Those were the days of bell-bottoms and tie-dye. We were too conservative for tie-dye, but I do believe at some point, I had striped hiphuggers. I didn't get the big floppy felt hat until sophomore year. Carol was the cute girl with the long eye lashes wearing the long marine jacket with a mini-skirt that guys always loved to see. That night, we just wore average jeans and printed tees. We ran about the lawn like ten-year-olds, grabbing our bugs and putting them in a jar. Many regulars were absent because of scheduling, so we risked minimal embarrassment.

    We never understood why we wasted our time like that with so much at stake. Some professor walked by, not one of ours, and smiled. "I'm sure that's helping you get ready for exams."

    We took it as a joke. We didn't have to answer to him. Our friend, Lynn, with the long, sexy blond hair (okay, w-a-a-a-a-y back then, all the girls had long, straight hair.) came back from her job cleaning tables. She laughed at us, told us we needed the break to escape the pressure, then played outside with us for a few more minutes. That Lynn always had a sympathetic response for everyone. What a nurturer! We went inside together,her room across the hall from ours on the first floor. We all hit the books for the rest of the night.

    We were all back in the fall, so we must have done okay on exams. I don't believe that hour or two hurt us any. It was probably the last time any of us chased lightning bugs just for ourselves, and not as parents or aunts or grandparents. But I still recall the abandon, the freedom, and the fun of living in the moment. The words of Wordsworth spring to mind: 
"What though the radiance
Which was once so bright
Be now forever taken from my sight,
Though nothing can bring back the hour
Of splendor in the grass and glory in the flower. . ."