mid-afternoon reality check...

As a child, I would often chase the little yellow butterflies and pinch their wings between my two tiny chubby fingers. i loved the powdery yellow trails they left on my fingers...
I would run barefeet on the fuming mid-summer afflicted roads to get my hands on those elusive dragonflies. They would twist, turn, dodge, accelerate and whirrrr away in a split-second. But then I would stealthily catch them unawares and tie a string to their tails. I loved to feel the vibrations in my fingers as they pulled on the strings with noisy protests...
Rainy musty twilights would bring the fireflies out in hordes. They would come out of their hiding places and sit on the grass, lighting tiny lamps under the beads left behind by the rains on the blades of the grass. I would sneak behind them, cupping my tiny hands to cut off the light from the world, and lift them up with a gentleness almost incapable of a child. And then transfer them carefully into a transparent empty camera-film can. When I had them all in there, I would retreat to a dark corner with my own little 'lamp' where the tiny fireflies shone just for me.

Looking back after almost two decades...I feel I haven't really changed much...