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They've been here a long time, lightning bugs. Or do you call them fireflies? You probably do if you were raised in the Western U.S. or parts of New England. But if you were raised in the Southeast or Midwest, you probably call them lightning bugs. I admit, the name "firefly" is much more poetic. I wish that's what I called them. You might say, "Just call 'em whatever you want, man," but see, I can't. I have to call them what I called them when I was a child because of the magic associated with their name. My memories of them are too precious, and I can't change anything. "Flies that make fire" is way cooler, I get it, but I have to stick with my childhood on this.

Fossil records reveal a 100 million-year-history of lightning bugs. Ancient mythology associated lightning bugs with hope and guidance. Japanese legend says that lightning bugs are the souls of the dead. Early Native American tribes were known to smear them on their faces and chests as decoration.

They have special organs under their abdomens to take in oxygen. They combine the oxygen with a substance called luciferin to make light. They use this, called bioluminesence, to light up the ends of their abdomen.

Lightning bugs live about 60 days. Their luminous bottoms are bitter and even toxic to predators, so they typically die of natural causes. They are nocturnal and sleep in taller grass during the day.

If you think you are seeing fewer lightning bugs than you did as a child, you're not imagining things. No fewer than 18 species of lightning bugs are in danger of extinction in North America alone. Experts say this is due mostly to pesticides, light pollution and habitat destruction.

Summer nights remind us of new love, lazy and warm, pointing us to a simpler time, free from stress and worry. Summertime is forever linked with flowers, butterflies, cool water and tiny, mystical creatures who light up the night sky with their bottoms.

And these flashes of light are all about love, as it turns out. Lightning bugs use their flashes to find mating partners. During the warm nights of July, our backyards become a virtual nightclub for these illuminating creatures, and the night sky becomes a Tinder app, of sorts, for bugs.

Most of the flashes we see are from male lightning bugs. They flash specific patterns to get the attention of females, who wait in the grass until they see something they like and then respond with flashes of their own. I like to imagine the male lightning bugs' flash to be like, 'How you doin?' giving him a swagger akin to Joey from the TV sitcom, "Friends."

I imagine the females, just hanging out on a long branch, commenting on "that guy over their with the interesting flash pattern."

"Oooooh, it's so complicated," another female might say, "I'll bet he's really interesting. I can tell just by looking at his flash pattern."

This is nothing like human rituals, where teenage boys stand along the wall while the girls dance with each other. Flash patterns notwithstanding, most humans only get together after the female takes the initiative.

Summertime is for revisiting the magic of childhood, for pondering the complexities of what it means to be here, and during our short flash of life, for exploring the humid, dusky mysteries of love.

Next time you're sitting on your back porch, watching the lightning bugs pop off, add your own commentary: "How you doin'?" "How you doin'?" Sure, you'll find yourself all alone on the back porch in mere minutes, but science is hard sometimes. And lonely.

- Antsy McClain
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