Reach Out and Touch Someone

About twenty years ago there was a commercial advising everyone to "Reach out and touch someone". I believe it was an AT&T commercial. In those days it was all about keeping in touch with family and friends with a phone call.
We would call families on weekends. Catch up on the latest events. Make plans to get together for dinner or spend some time together after work for dinner. We actually kept in touch by talking with one another.
My, how times have changed. I really don't want to sound like a Maxine character, but frankly during the last run up to the elections, I wished people would stop reaching out to touch me. The barrage involved intense, nonstop touching...by phone call, on television, and even on social media! Has it always been this invasive? Or is this just an intensification of everything else that has been magnified thanks to our very visual, technology oriented society? I dread it beginning again.
Don't get me wrong. I love technology. I welcome and even actively pursue the information highway. So much to learn, to scramble my brainwaves, to ...ummm. Well, maybe that's overstating it a bit. I think it gives me a headache sometimes.
But seriously, maybe it's time we take a step back. Would that even be possible? Could we actually restart some face-to-face time. Not Skype or Apple iPhone face-to-face. How about more up close and personal discussions? The kind of conversations that are open and civil. No hiding behind a computer screen blasting away at someone's beliefs or identity.  I think we need the kind of reaching out where people actually listen to one another. And HEAR one another. And TALK to one another face-to-face.  Not with Hate, or Anger, Distrust, or total dismissal. But with a desire to learn, cooperate, maybe even compromise and come up with some real ideas. Is compromise such an ugly idea?
In the meantime,  I'm enjoying another form of communication.  My golden retriever communicates regularly by reaching out to touch me.  (What were YOU thinking I meant?) Tilly gently places her paw on my arm to tell me she's there. She snuggles close laying her head in my lap when she senses I need a bit of comfort. I love that she reaches out. Occasionally there's even a little bit of a kiss licked onto my hand. She listens and sometimes even shares her opinions. At least my dog still knows how to reach out and touch someone!

FIREFLIES

It's June and the fireflies have reappeared. With their return come so many memories from my youth and also one from the not so distant past.

Most of us have had some experience catching fireflies. My first memories of fireflies are those of hot, humid summer evenings at my grandparents' house in Iowa. My grandmother found a canning jar or a mayonnaise jar. It didn't matter. Either would do.  She prepared it with a screw on lid that we poked holes in.  We would pull up a few strands of grass to put in the bottom of the jar.
Then it was time to wait.  Waiting for dusk. Darkness descending. A first yellow flash low in a bush. Then another flicker. Suddenly the yard was alive with neon dots and dashes. We ran from one flash to another. Jar in one hand, lid in the other. Scooping up that flashing bug and successfully trapping it in the jar. With luck, one could have a small cache of fireflies in the jar rapidly flashing their coded alerts. Then it was pure entertainment to sit on the porch, count how many we had captured, and watch them flash for us. These little bugs were entertaining and mesmerizing. Eventually we released the little flashers and moved on to other entertainment. The next night we would return to catch them again.
I hadn't thought much about fireflies since my youth until recently when their reappearance brought back another memory.

Shortly after we built our home on the edge Arkansas Ozarks, I spent a weekend at the house alone. It was time to get the new house ready for moving in. Measuring windows for window treatments, determining where furniture would fit, I was busy throughout the day. I'd brought our young golden retriever, Winston, along for company. As a year-old pup, he was still learning about many new things. He loved the woods behind the house and explored during the day.
That first night, he must have sensed my uneasiness at being alone in the house for the first time.  The master bedroom patio door had no covering yet, but it didn't matter. There was nothing but woods behind us. The night was inky black lit only by a partial moon and twinkling stars. The darkness filled the bedroom, and I'd just crawled into bed when Winston let out a low growl. He was crouched low looking out the patio door. With nothing between him and the outdoors but the deck and the patio door, he had a full view of the back yard and the woods. With as much courage as I could muster. I asked, "What's wrong, fella? What do you see?"
His growling continued. A long, low warning rumble. Something was out there.
Gathering myself and taking a deep breath, I hunkered down onto my hands and knees and crawled over next to him. Was it a coyote? Was it a person?
The two of us scanned the yard, the woods, the skyline. Side by side. On all fours. Crouching low.
"What is it, Win? What do you see?" I whispered.
He continued growling. I scanned the area. Nothing.
But Winston's growling didn't stop. He turned to me and then looked back outside as if to say, "Don't you see it?" He definitely wanted me to know there was something out there.
Then I did see it.
The flash of light.
And another.
And another.
I laughed in relief. Patted his back and sat up. "It's okay, fella. Good dog.  It's okay," I assured him, giving him a little hug.
Winston had just seen something new. But it wasn't an evil, lurking Intruder. It wasn't a wild animal encroaching on our yard. It wasn't any kind of monster.
It was a firefly.  And another. And another. The little sparks of light in the black of the night had frightened our young dog.  He didn't know about fireflies!  He'd never seen them before. He was doing his best to protect me.

Each year, on those hot, humid summer nights when the fireflies come out, I remember that night and the nights when I was a youngster catching fireflies. Fireflies and their brief bursts of light bring a small flash of warm remembrance to my life. I think I'll take our granddaughter out to catch fireflies some night soon.