The last thing you see before sleep--the spark and shimmy of fireflies tensing the wide field--flickers into your drifting, a silent song, and you settle.
You know that the other side of this dazzle, just before Wren and Oriole, Towhee and Warbler call in Sun, Bobcat and Crow will have words beneath your window and glide their tango through the garden, one over earth, one through air. Out in the field Coyote will circle and spiral in Doe's wake while Sharp-shinned Hawk and Kestrel spin and hover in search of Songbird.
Summer day will roar and Bee will shake itself at Chive, Butterfly will twitch at Buttercup and Ant will help Peony shake out her flounces. Rat will dart past, teeth full of Snake, Fisher will carry off Chipmunk and the world will bloody itself beneath warm Blue.
But for now, you believe that there is only this: the wonderment of tiny bodies pulsing with light.