rosetta114
Aug 15, 2009
Undergraduate / Fireflies - "Significant experience" essay [14]
Evaluate a significant experience, achievement, risk you have taken, or ethical dilemma you have faced and its impact on you.
Advice would be greatly appreciated. thanks :D
_________
They were like dancers, I thought. Beautiful, graceful, majestic dancers. I watched their lights flicker on an off, on and off, as they appeared and disappeared in the night sky. Their dance formed a forever moving painting: with each passing flash of the firefly, cool undertones of beauty and serenity would so seamlessly blend with bold highlights of spontaneity and mysticism.
With a childlike sensibility, I grinned and helped myself to a full, deep breath of warm summer air.
My brothers were already chasing the fireflies in the yard. I called after my brothers. They didn't hear me. Or maybe, I thought, they did hear me and chose to ignore me. I rationalized in my young mind that it was probably the latter. But it did not matter. I was going to catch myself a firefly. Heck, I was going to catch myself ten fireflies and raise them. They'd be my very own, and my brothers wouldn't be able to laugh at me or tell me squat about what to do with them. Tonight, I was going to catch myself a firefly.
I stepped somewhat cautiously further into the yard and opened the lid of my jar. When I looked up, a flash of light sparked suddenly in front of my eyes. I turned around quickly, but the light had disappeared. I strained my eyes, looking for the firefly that had so dexterously blended in with the dark grass. And then I saw the flash again.
I grabbed my jar and held it up to the firefly. Quickly, right when the firefly lingered above the jar, I grabbed the lid and snapped my jar shut. I had caught it! I thought. I had caught it.
I looked at the jar, hoping to admire my catch. But the firefly was not in the jar. Where had it gone? I looked at the grass and saw a faint glow of light. It was a firefly, lying in the grass. I looked at it. It was not moving.
I stood still. I was confused. Why wasn't it moving? I stood. I looked. I waited. Why wasn't it moving? It was napping, I thought, it was just napping...
I stood there for some time longer. I gingerly bent down, and very cautiously, very tenderly, I picked up the firefly and placed it in my palm. Its legs were not moving. I felt like a giant; a clumsy, senseless giant. My young hands looked so large around its small body. I looked at it for some time longer, standing still. There was a chill in the warm night air.
I suppose that was the first time I was acquainted with death, with lifelessness. I was confused, but somehow I understood that it could not move anymore, could not fly anymore.
I looked back. Its wings were still glowing. They were no longer flashing, like the wings of the other fireflies, but they were still glowing, however faintly.
Fireflies are very strange creatures. Their light still glows for a good time after they're dead. I smiled, just slightly. Maybe that's how it is with all things, I thought.
Evaluate a significant experience, achievement, risk you have taken, or ethical dilemma you have faced and its impact on you.
Advice would be greatly appreciated. thanks :D
_________
They were like dancers, I thought. Beautiful, graceful, majestic dancers. I watched their lights flicker on an off, on and off, as they appeared and disappeared in the night sky. Their dance formed a forever moving painting: with each passing flash of the firefly, cool undertones of beauty and serenity would so seamlessly blend with bold highlights of spontaneity and mysticism.
With a childlike sensibility, I grinned and helped myself to a full, deep breath of warm summer air.
My brothers were already chasing the fireflies in the yard. I called after my brothers. They didn't hear me. Or maybe, I thought, they did hear me and chose to ignore me. I rationalized in my young mind that it was probably the latter. But it did not matter. I was going to catch myself a firefly. Heck, I was going to catch myself ten fireflies and raise them. They'd be my very own, and my brothers wouldn't be able to laugh at me or tell me squat about what to do with them. Tonight, I was going to catch myself a firefly.
I stepped somewhat cautiously further into the yard and opened the lid of my jar. When I looked up, a flash of light sparked suddenly in front of my eyes. I turned around quickly, but the light had disappeared. I strained my eyes, looking for the firefly that had so dexterously blended in with the dark grass. And then I saw the flash again.
I grabbed my jar and held it up to the firefly. Quickly, right when the firefly lingered above the jar, I grabbed the lid and snapped my jar shut. I had caught it! I thought. I had caught it.
I looked at the jar, hoping to admire my catch. But the firefly was not in the jar. Where had it gone? I looked at the grass and saw a faint glow of light. It was a firefly, lying in the grass. I looked at it. It was not moving.
I stood still. I was confused. Why wasn't it moving? I stood. I looked. I waited. Why wasn't it moving? It was napping, I thought, it was just napping...
I stood there for some time longer. I gingerly bent down, and very cautiously, very tenderly, I picked up the firefly and placed it in my palm. Its legs were not moving. I felt like a giant; a clumsy, senseless giant. My young hands looked so large around its small body. I looked at it for some time longer, standing still. There was a chill in the warm night air.
I suppose that was the first time I was acquainted with death, with lifelessness. I was confused, but somehow I understood that it could not move anymore, could not fly anymore.
I looked back. Its wings were still glowing. They were no longer flashing, like the wings of the other fireflies, but they were still glowing, however faintly.
Fireflies are very strange creatures. Their light still glows for a good time after they're dead. I smiled, just slightly. Maybe that's how it is with all things, I thought.