Mouser (.ORG)

I was standing under the Tree in the Square today, admiring its silver leaves as the moved in unison, shimmering, when I felt a small tickle on the soles of my feet. I looked down to see glowworms wriggling up from the soil below. Slender and no more than an inch long, they arose together in the thousands.

Their bioluminescent glow poured over the cavern walls painting the Square in a shimmering radiance of blue and green. I cannot recall the last time I saw a glowworm bloom, and certainly not in a place so central as the Square.

As magnificent as the light show was, what I find to be the most transcendent element of such an event is the sound. This glorious swell rises up with the lights, as if each worm was a single string resonating in harmony, not at all dissimilar to “Lua” by Will Samson.

It’s as if every element moves autonomously, but in perfect agreement—slightly out of sync but entirely in tune. The sound washes over you like a warm bath of pale light and you quickly find yourself adrift in its gentle current.

I felt the tickle subside on my feet and looked down to see the glowworms moving towards the walls of the chamber, and then climbing up. They coalesced in a brightly shining mass on the ceiling before slowly passing through it in some kind of luminescent osmosis. The light dimmed, then weakened, then faded, then was gone.

Ah! Such a glorious sight! I’ve been fortunate to have enjoyed a number of such occurrences over my lifetime, and I’m happy to say that on this occasion many of you were there with me to witness the sight, but for those of you who, sadly, missed it, I will play “Lua”. Close your eyes and listen—I’m sure the lights will find you.