Pixies by Evening

Andy Reago & Chrissy McClarren via Creative Commons

The little moths, lipstick-pink and sunshine-yellow, gather on the screen beneath the soft golden glow of the porch light. Capturing them in our small hands, we stroke their fluffy little heads and giggle at their prickly little feet as they escape up our arms. When they grow tired of our games and climb too high on the fine metal mesh for my older fingers to reach, we settle on the porch swing under the warm and fuzzy blanket.

Mouths tinged faintly with the memory of toothpaste, we are lulled by the chains that creak and clunk as we glide slowly back and forth to the tempo of trilling crickets, drinking cool air gently scented with the sharp tang of moss and fern and wild grasses, and the sparkling distance of summer stars.