And Now My Watch Begins
Today I took the beige, scared off the Wildlings, and defended the citizens of the realm from the White Walkers. No joke.
I didn’t expect to be emotionally moved when I was handed an NPS uniform for tonight’s event but this year is the National Parks Service’s 100th Anniversary. Generations of Americans have worked to keep these parks out of the hands of oil drillers, loggers, and poachers, and now I am a part of this tradition. The last time I felt this American was the night Obama was elected to his first term and I stood outside the White House in the rain with thousands of other people who were just as proud and hopeful as I was.
I donned my uniform, which looks terrible on me, btw, and headed over the Synchronous Firefly Orientation led by Becky, the one woman almanac who predicts peak display days for the fireflies every year. There was a sense of determination and efficiency to this meeting that I have only ever seen in movie scenes that take place in police precincts or heist planning sessions just before the words “Alright men, roll out.” There was a white board behind Becky that IDed everyone’s locations and SUAs. Becky was the IC for the night, Lisa the OM. There was “Josh. Rouge Coverage. 143.” Ethan was taking the lead on Trailhead. There were even a couple snarky guys from Fisheries in the back row who had to be told to “calm down.” “No celebrity activity tonight, people,” said Becky. “This weekend we had Friends of the Smokies and Forever Trails but no VIP action tonight. We do have National Geographic coming…” followed by two intense minutes outlining what to do if they even tried to park their van at Elkmont after 5pm. Needless to say, this is a serious operation.
I joined Liz, a retired law enforcement officer who worked sex crimes in Arlington, TX for most of her life, and Lois and John, a retired couple who live in South Carolina and spend every Summer volunteering at the park. This was their fourth day in a row working the event from 8am-midnight. Ballers.
Fireflies are disturbed by white light so everyone who is lucky enough to have gotten a ticket to tonight’s event has to pass through a checkpoint where we, the watchers on the trail, sought out people with white light flashlights- White Walkers, if you will- and handed them red cellophane and rubber bands to cover their lights with. We also took John’s wood blocks to run off a Wildling baby bear planning a raid!
Before it got too dark I ventured up to the cemetery, which to my surprise, is A) still in use, and B) where many of the Parton’s (as in, Dolly Parton) are buried:
Tonight’s display was even more impressive than last night’s. It looked something like that moment in a concert arena right before the headliners come on when the lights go dark and everyone’s cell phones and cameras are flashing:
Except that here in the woods it’s also a little like when the Death Eaters (this blog gets nerdier by the second) emerge at the Quiddich World Cup. Strange yellow lights hang high above your head, red flashes of light are going off all over the place, you’re making your way through the woods in pitch black, all you can hear is the murmur of strange voices until someone calls you out by name because even among 2,000 people in the woods tonight you still manage to find the four people that you know, and anything is possible. For instance, a cheeky male firefly could try to mate with you.
Yep. One of them flew right at my chest, went dark, leaving me wondering where the hell it went, and then lit up from INSIDE MY SHIRT. And not just my NPS outer shirt but the rather tight tank top I had on underneath it. Talented bug, in my opinion. And I do appreciate a straight forward approach, I just prefer it be from a human.
