Based on an experience I just had...

The young man opened the sliding glass door and let his dachshund out into the back yard. He flipped on the outside light and stepped onto the wooden porch, as the dog bolted out and ran out to the darkness of the yard. The man took a few steps off of the porch, looking around at the yard. He could see the full moon before him, partially covered from the silhouettes of trees. To his left, he could see the sky light up with static electricity - it appeared to be a lightning storm without thunder. In addition, several bullfrogs started croaking in seeming rhythm - he could tell the sound was coming from the trees before him.

He saw a flash before his eyes, and looking to the sky, he saw the flash again. "Oh it's an airplane...", he said to himself, and expected to see the flash continue in a line...but instead, the blinking light took a sharp left turn. He looked away to see if his dachshund was still doing her business, then looked back to the trees. He saw the flash again, and was surprised when it blinked before the silhouettes of trees. "That can't be an airplane!", he said, and focused on the light.

A lone firefly drifted around his back yard, flashing it's light every few seconds, sometimes dimly, other times very brightly. He knew his mind wasn't playing tricks on him, and for the next few minutes, he stared blankly around the back yard, watching the insect blink as it maneuvered through the trees. This was a rare sight for the man, as fireflies usually flew deeper into the woods rather than in his back yard.

He suddenly had a sense of nostalgia, his childhood was full of trips where he and his family would stay in a chalet on a mountain or in a wooded area, and every time he would run outside and chase the fireflies as they danced with one another. He wanted to go back there again, and had the immediate realization that summer had arrived.

His thoughts then began to drift. Why was this firefly so far out from where he should be? Who was he looking for? Would he ever find that person, or is he cursed to fly alone and lost?

By this time, the dachshund reappeared from the darkness and jumped onto the wooden deck. The young man turned his attention back to the dog, stepping back onto the porch and opening the sliding glass door to let her into the house. He stopped, reached into the house, and flipped the light off, and taking a look back, he listened as the bullfrogs slowly began to cease their croaking. He saw the static in the sky flash once more, and before him was a blink of light that floated around aimlessly. The man stepped into the well-lit room and closed the door.

Another summer had arrived...one of adventure, but one of loneliness...