The Blog of dreamdancer

June Bug Flyin'

Summer in the city, Washington, D.C., to be exact, was wonderful. There were parks, school yards, and empty lots to play in. There was hop scotch, double-dutch, jacks, red rover, dodge ball, and tag; so many outdoor things to do. We had this empty lot, just 4 houses up from us. The adults all hated it. Thought it an eyesore, but the kids loved it. It was our Swiss Family Robinson, our jungle, our place to climb trees and to examine nature's bounty up close. The weeds were quite high. We would plough right through them and all that could be seen of any of us would be our shoulders and heads and some of the shorties just disappeared. Some times we would look for insects, catch bees in glass jars filled with clover. Hold the jars to our ears and listen to the bees buzz. It was so much fun. Life was so uncomplicated and sweet. There were hopper grasses as little Ruby called them, garter snakes, and frogs. Gooey squishy things under logs, but the thing we liked most, the thing we liked best was flyin' June bugs. Now I do not know if is just something we thought to do or whether this practice existed elsewhere and maybe still does...I know I passed it down to my kids, this June Bug flyin'.



I don't remember who first thought of it, Frankie, Linda, Danny, Dickie, Tricia, maybe Audrey or Dan, but we'd meet at that lot first thing after breakfast and begin our June Bug hunt. Sometimes we would hunt and find nothing, spend hours doing it, hoping. Of course when that happened we were just too early, the June Bugs just were not there yet. Then one day in the hot summer sun, we'd find one then two, and before you knew it we all had at least one. Marauding every sewing basket there was in our homes, taking spools of thread, jamming them into pockets hoping to remain unseen and again exit through the door. Well the process was quite simple. Each June Bug took two sets of small hands one to hold, the other to the tie the thread from the spool to one of the June Bug’s back legs. Very patient we were until every one had a June Bug of their own tied to a spool of thread. Off to the sidewalks we would go, place our bug on the edge of a fence or on the bark of a tree and wait. We would wait for flight. Oh Lord, when it happened it was so exciting, the shouts of joy, the squeals of glee as our June Bugs would fly off and we would reel the thread out from the spool. We’d be flyin' them June Bugs as the sun would shine and the air would be sweet, one friend smiling at the other, just loving summer.