#musemonday Sometimes my muse isn’t a person at all. Sometimes it’s something I see. We here in Alabama are getting into the time of year when fireflies begin to appear and start their fairylight mating dance. There’s something magical about being outdoors on a warm summer night watching the little creatures climb up to the stars with their little firepots flirting with each other and with us. The sight of them fills me with that longing to have one, to capture several and keep them in jars. I did as a child. I don’t now. I understand their life cycle; I’m compassionate toward them. But the urge to capture them, to grab that beauty, that awesomeness, that wonder, and hang on tighter than tight is *huge* and I cannot resist it. So I grab my tools and get to work capturing as many as I can with words on paper, or sometimes watercolor pencils on a different kind of paper. Muses don’t have to be people or inspire characters. Sometimes they’re tiny little innocuous insects that transport us out of the now and into the then when we were young and magic could be held in our hands.