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The Dancing Lights on the Lake PDF Print E-mail
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Written by George A. Kulz   

“Did you see that?” Anabella said to her mother as they sat on the back porch by the lake.

    “Mmm?” her mother said, looking up from her book.

    “Those weird orange lights,” she said, and then frowned. The lights had disappeared.

“No, Dear, I didn’t.” Her mother returned to her book. “Maybe you just saw some fireflies.”

    “I don’t think so. The lights looked far away. Maybe they came from that island in the middle of the lake. Does anyone live there?”

    “The realtor told me the Morrisons across the lake own it, but no one lives there. Why do you want to know?”

    “Just curious,” Anabella said, dropping the subject. It was clear to her that her mother was not paying any attention. “Can we go inside now? It’s getting chilly out here.”

    The next morning, Anabella got up early to look at the island through her binoculars.

It certainly looks deserted, she thought.


Then she spied the house peaking through the trees on the far shore.

    That must be the Morrisons’ house, Anabella thought. Maybe they can tell me about the lights.

    She mounted her bike and rode around the lake until she arrived at the Morrisons’ house. She walked up the path to the front door and rang the bell.

    No one came to the door.

    “Mrs. Morrison, I want to talk to you about the lights on the lake,” she called.

    “She’s not there,” a voice called behind her, “but I’ve seen the lights too.”
    Anabella turned to see a short, dark-haired boy standing at the end of the driveway. He peered at her from a tuft of hair that swooped from his forehead to just above his eyes.

    “I’m Marco, by the way,” the boy said.

    “Nice to meet you. I’m Anabella. So where do you think the lights are coming from?”

    “I don’t know, but I’m going to the island to find out. Want to come?”

    “How are you going to get there?”

    “Well, it’s not really an island. It’s connected to the shore. Come on, I’ll show you.”

    Soon the two children were pedaling along a narrow ridge connecting the shore to the island. Marco and Anabella left their bikes at the edge of the trees and walked toward the center of the island. Anabella saw nothing but trees and many blue-gray birds flying about.


    “What kind of birds are those?” Anabella asked.

    “My mom says they’re night herons, but I’ve never seen this many around here before,” Marco said. “Maybe we saw some of them flying around at night.”

    “I’ve never heard of any type of bird that glows in the dark,” Anabella answered.

    Suddenly, Anabella’s foot snagged a tree root. “Whoa,” she cried. She pin wheeled her arms, trying to regain her balance, but the momentum carried her forward and she went down.

Marco rushed to her side. “Are you all right?” He held out his hand to help her up.

    “Wait,” Anabella cried. “Look at this.”

    Marco followed her finger as she pointed at the rows of orange glowing mushrooms inside a nearby fallen log. “What in the world are those?” he asked.

    “It’s honey fungus,” Anabella answered.

“Gross,” Marco said.

“Fungus is just another word for mushrooms. These particular mushrooms glow in the dark. In some cultures, people thought they were evil spirits called will o’ the wisps.”

    “So the weird lights are really mushrooms?” Marco asked. “I’ve never heard of flying mushrooms before.”

    The two of them laughed.

    As Marco helped Anabella up, she noticed the mushrooms attached to many of the twigs that had fallen from the surrounding trees.

    “I think the mushrooms do fly,” Anabella said. “If we come back after dark, I can show you.”

    A few hours later, the two of them sat on a fallen log a distance away from the glowing mushrooms.

    “I still don’t know what we’re waiting for,” Marco whispered.

    “You’ll see,” Anabella said.

    Suddenly, a number of birds appeared and swooped to the ground. As they took off to the sky, the two of them noticed the twigs in their mouths. The honey fungus clung to some of them. Far above them, more orange lights shone among the tree branches.

    “The night herons have been using the twigs with the mushrooms to build their nests,” Anabella said.

    “So that’s what was causing the dancing lights on the lake,” Marco said. “Now the mystery is solved.”

 

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