I remember the year the children got to vote on the state insect. I have no idea what their choices were, but they were thrilled when the firefly was chosen. Fireflies provided a lot of fun for them.

At night we often sat outside – either at the farm or at Hickory Heights. Since this was an area without street lights, we could see the fireflies or as we used to call them, lightning bugs. Those little night lights were so much fun to watch.

The children begged for jars to collect them. Usually, I had some handy. They would run around and collect lightning bugs. The bugs were so much fun to watch. They did not all light up at once. It was first one, then another.

Once the children had their jar of lightning bugs collected, they tried to see what they could do. Were they able to read a book? Were they able to use them like a flashlight? It was always fun.

They did not keep the bugs in the jar. They just captured them for a while. They knew as part of nature that they needed to be free.

I always thought back to my childhood when they were out collecting the bugs. My cousins and I often did the same thing. Most of the time we collected the lightning bugs in my Aunt Mae’s back yard. They lived on a quiet street. There were street lights, but they were in front of the house and there was not one in front of their house.

There were a lot of bushes out back and the lightning bugs seemed to like being there. We ran around with our jars collecting bugs. Once they were in the jar you could really see what was going on. If you watched carefully, you could see the part that lit up.

There are 170 species of lightning bugs in the U.S. The phenomenon exhibited by the little lights is known as bioluminescence. These small creatures feed on nectar and pollen. They have a life span of two months. They are the only creatures who give off light without generating heat. The little lights are actually part of the mating ritual. They can dance to attract the mate of their choice.

Once when we were on a trip with my cousin and her husband, we visited a bed and breakfast near Charm, OH. My husband and I had been there before so we made the reservations. We were just on a weekend trip. There were all kinds of props in the rooms. Bruce and Marcia dressed up like that old picture of the farmer and his wife with the hay fork and we took their picture.

The first night we sat out on the big front porch with our hosts and other travelers. One lady noticed the lightning bugs and asked what they were. They were from Oregon and told us they did not have such bugs there. They enjoyed watching the little things light up and fly away. We sat for a long time visiting, then our hosts served a nightly snack.

In Amish country everything shuts down when it is dark. Since they do not use electricity, the stores would be dark. We visited the stores in the afternoon. Bruce especially liked all of the cheese samples that he could enjoy as he picked out the ones they wanted to purchase. We shopped there early but returned to make our purchase later so that we could pack it in ice for the trip home. Nothing was open on Sunday.

I had my first taste of Baby Swiss cheese. I really liked it and opted to bring some home. From then on when ever we were in Amish country, we brought Baby Swiss cheese home.

Through the years lightning bugs provided a lot of entertainment. Once the grandchildren came along, we taught them to collect lightning bugs too. Many lazy nights were spent on the front porch at Hickory Heights.

When we had company, the front porch was the place to be. If we ate watermelon, we spit the pits to see who could spit them the furthest. They just went into the yard. If we cooked venison steaks on the grill, we ate out there.

Once we took venison steaks to a faculty cook out. People turned up their noses at our choice of meat, but it was delicious.

When I got to the Grand Hotel on Mackinaw Island, guess what was on the menu that first night? I was able to order venison and it was tender and delicious. I was really surprised to find it on the menu, but I was not about to miss it!

Ann Swanson writes from her home in Russell, Pa. Contact at hickoryheights1@verizon.net.