Capturing Wonder

The full moon was out, and at first, that was all that made the drive special. Moonlight, tree shadow, the dull thud, thud, th-thud of bug bodies piling onto the windshield. But then, over the hill, a light began to rise, a second moon peeking over the horizon. The headlights of the other car illuminated a cloud of millions of bubbles, jostling back and forth, as tightly packed as a school of fish, or a can of cherries. The seething light swirled upwards continuously, losing its definition in the space of dark between the headlights and the moon.

"What...is..." I breathed, it was magic, it was alive, it was...

My brother flopped his arm onto the armrest, "A plague."

"You mean, they're..."

"Mayflies. Isn't it gross?" His bored expression was briefly illuminated as the car passed us.

Th-th-th-th-thud.

But...they were so beautiful. I wanted to capture that instant before I knew that mayflies could be beautiful; pin it down with brush strokes, and a keyboard. But it didn't work the way I intended. All I could order out was a mildly pretty description of headlights, chased by a cynical revelation, and butchered with a self referential paragraph guiltily explaining my clumsy attempt. I hoped vaguely that it came close enough to the truth.