Where Have All the Lightning Bugs Gone?
A normally shy guy who has a calm love of life and people. Imitating a Professor in a park on the topic to “where have all the lightening bugs gone?”
Today’s lecture topic concerns the question of the demise of certain small living things. Specifically, the nocturnal soft-bodied beetle of the family Lampyridae. Yes, Miss Darby. Spell it? Yes, B-E-E-T-L-E B-U-G. Now, this insect is often called a glowworm. But it isn’t a worm, of course. It is called, by some, a glowfly. Or a firefly. But it isn’t a fly. Although it does fly, of course. This lightning bug has an organ at the tip of the abdomen which produces a soft light, a glow. Let me tell you the rationale behind the mysterious disappearance of this lovely insect, which is no longer observable in such abundant numbers as it was in days of our. The salient point is that they’re gone. Whence, and whither flown again? Whence are we? The roses of our summer die. The glowworms of our youth are killed. And how? What is this that thou hast done to innocence? With freeways and speeding cars, thee assassinated the gentle butterfly and the warm glowworm. They fly no more. That’s my theory. I used to have a job at a car wash. The front ends: smeared with bugs. Pow! Radiators filled with butterflies. It was a pretty bad mess. Never mosquitoes, ugly hornets, or chiggers. Nor Japanese beetles. Only the beautiful things get killed. Love gets killed, not hate. Nice people, not the other kind. And the bad thing is that I don’t know what to do about it. I’ve abolished all cars. I never drive one. Never ride in one. I walk. Everywhere. The whole world. Planes and boats? I don’t know about planes and boats. The trouble with the world is that people can get around too easily. Move from here to there to make trouble or maybe to find new beauty.