As the silver of the moon hit the trail, it ricocheted gently off everything it touched. The hoary orb stealthily claimed the jet skies and the creatures of the night came alive, chanting in unison, catching us in its spell.

The beauty of the night held us captive, as though trying to keep us from reaching our destination.

The trail we were on was lit by hundreds of shimmering fireflies the bushes on either side blanketed in bleeps of green and red. And I was reeled back into memories that had remained quiescent for years.

Now, seeing the fireflies, en route to a small settlement in Tatopani, Myagdi, a village far away from the city I call home, happy times came flooding back.

The green, yellow and red reminded me of younger days and the times I had spent chasing the elusive bugs. And in that sudden encounter in the forests of Myagdi, I realised how much I missed them.

Summer evenings used to sparkle with these little beings.