Under the stars we all gaze upon

Under+the+stars+we+all+gaze+upon

Twinkling and bright they sit in extreme contrast to the dark, violent night sky. The little balls of light are hundreds of thousands of miles away, but the distance isn’t relevant.

The little girl parts the tall, waist-length grass just enough to continue frolicking through it without it snagging the fabric of her purple dress—the same color of the violet flowers that will bloom once morning comes.

The yellow and green light flashing against the distant trees draws the pretty little girl further in, catching her attention like a dainty firefly does. The little girl giggles, chasing the blinking lights further down the rugged path. From the treeline, you can see her silhouette reaching for the stars in order to catch the pesky lightning bugs that are evading her marshmallow covered fingers.

The little girl runs into the kitchen shouting for her mother over the soft sounds of Carrie Underwood playing. Together, they pierce the top of an old Tupperware container with enough holes to supply the little lightning bug, which she names Eli, with the air it’ll need.

In the next woods over, the fingers playing the old guitar are weathered—a stark contrast to the little girl a myriad of miles away. The soft tune of the guitar strumming under the bright stars mixed with the crackling of fire, caused by the wet wood that was released from the clouds a few hours prior, makes the perfect soundtrack for summer. Different from the quiet snapping of the fire that can only be heard in the handful of moments when the family is silent, the laughter that is emitted seems as if it’ll carry on for miles.

The yellow and green light flashing against the distant trees draws the pretty little girl further in, catching her attention like one does a dainty firefly.”

Somewhere along the east coast, the movie is starting. You can hear the murmuring ‘shhh’ being passed from one car to the next. The movie screen projects a classic — the kind that entertains any generation. The smell of popcorn and hot pretzels underneath the starry sky is overwhelming, causing you to feel as if the coming-of-age movie you’re watching is your own story. The pile of blankets in the back seat keeps out the mosquitoes, along with the bottles of bug spray.

A thousand miles away, the firework being shot into the sky lights up the beach for a millisecond, tinting the sand magnificent reds, greens, and purples. The same purple shade that the little firefly-catching girl was clothed in.