Polliwogs and Lightning Bugs

I was driving down a country road the other day and as I passed over a bridge, I saw two shirtless ten-year-olds fishing. They were standing on the bank watching their lines and laughing. I smiled to myself and thought back to a simpler time from my youth

500 North Edgeworth has a park on the end of the street. 500 is about the fifth house down from the park. If Mom and Dad got the house, they thought they bought, the park would have been right across the street. They didn’t and the Conti’s did.

All the kids in the neighborhood went to the park. When it rained, a portion of the park flooded, and when it did, most of the boys went polliwog hunting. A polliwog is a baby frog or toad. As adults they have strong back legs that allow them to hop around on land, but the polliwogs we captured had tails and lived in the water.

Each hunter had a pail or a glass jar with a lid. Glass jar men, like me, had their own private aquariums until their mom’s made them return the little amphibians to the park. Most moms were afraid of the smell that might accompany the captured prey. I think my mom was the leader of those moms.

Our polliwog hunts were held in April and May as the weather got warmer. Those we didn’t capture turned into frogs and toads. Some moms warned us that catching a toad was a dangerous business. They could give you warts, especially if they peed on you, which they did when you caught them. The truth of the matter is toads don’t give you warts, but they do pee on you. It’s a defense mechanism.

Most of us were more comfortable catching frogs than toads. While frogs were slippery, they didn’t bring the fear of warts

I don’t remember our kids hunting polliwogs, but they did catch lightning bugs. The first time I remember seeing lightning bugs was in Kentucky. It was during one of our trips to visit Old Granny Barner in Bowling Green. We made the trips during the summer months when Kentucky nights were warm and wet. Perfect weather for the flies to strut their stuff.

Fun fact: If you watch lightning bugs, you’ll see them blinking. The purpose of the blinking is so that males can find potential mates. It’s one of nature’s oldest I’ll show you mine if you show me yours routines.

David, Elizabeth and Michael held their lightning bug hunts in July and August when the nights were hot and humid. The bugs like it that way. I think Michael was our most compassionate hunter. The three caught the flies and put them in a glass jar with some grass or green leaves. Mike didn’t want them to die, so he’d poke holes in the jar lids. He’d have anywhere from a dozen to a billion in each jar. The only problem with his plan was the holes that let air in also provided an exit for the bugs. After a couple of unscheduled bug releases in Michael’s room, Ruth invested in some commercial bug jars. Great move on her part.

During each of our forty-three summers at Lake LeAnn, Ruth stopped the car on Vickery Road near one of the several swamps. In the beginning it was Ruth, David, baby BZ and me. When Michael arrived, he joined us. We’d sit on the side of the road and crack the windows. We’d listen to the frogs sing and watch the lightning bugs light up the night. It felt like nature was putting on a concert just for us. I miss those days.