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Greetings, my fellow port swillers!

Ol’ Robbo spotted his first firefly of the season last evening, a very pleasurable annual occurrence despite the fact that their appearance is always a harbinger of nasty, hot, sticky summah nights here (and last night was just such a one).

While I only saw the singleton, operating in a detached way near the fence, soon enough the tree line will be full of them flashing away.

Loitering about on the porch, I was also hoping to spot my first bats of the season, but there was no joy on that front. (True, I didn’t hang about all that long.) Ol’ Robbo has always loved bats and takes almost as much pleasure watching them dodge, duck, dip, dive, and …..dodge*** as he does watching the fireflies flash in their little galaxies. Now and again I’ve even considered putting up a bat house, but alas, it would cause undue stress to Mrs. R, who hates the things. Oh, well.

Do bats eat fireflies? I wonder. Probably, at least when they can get them, I should think. Except, as I say, the fireflies around here generally stick to the tree line, while the bats are more open air types, so perhaps there’s not all that much interaction. The sentimentalist side of me rayther hopes that’s the case.

** Spot the reference

*** Spot the quote

UPDATE:

Ol’ Robbo is reminded that today is Flag Day.

I fly mine 24/7 (properly lit at night, of course). I have considered once in a way the idea of taking it down in protest of the garbage times in which we live and the garbage people who are running things, but every time I do, I reach the resolution that I’ll be damned if they take this away from me, too.

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