Monthly Movement - June 2025
A love letter to lightning bugs and the treats that make fast summers a little slower.
Did you ever hold your eyes tightly closed to let shapes morph into a kaleidoscope through the dark? I used to do this and would add pressure to my eyelids to gently direct the light show. I recently tried to do this again, but the effect wasn’t as vivid as I remembered. Maybe screens stole my retinas, or growing up stole my innocence.
Every year, without fail, I forget that fireflies exist. Aside from one very magical firefly experience in Japan when I was 14 years old, these little bugs may as well have been mystical creatures before moving to Virginia–only a literary ambiance detail in books about the Old South.
The summer humidity here can make the evenings feel like frosted glass. There’s a thickening of the atmosphere that blurs all the shades of green together while the sun slowly tucks away. As soon as dusk clicks into place and my eyes rest back into the space between my ears, a little flicker of light will cut through the fog. It takes a few of them to spark before I trust that my vision isn’t playing tricks on me.
While grilling in the backyard or, better yet, when the heat is bearable enough to spend the evening on our screened-in porch, I relish in the unpredictable flashes of fireflies. Better yet, I love their invitation to simply exist among their meandering performance. Beautiful things tempt my photographer instincts, but the fleeting light provided by fireflies simply cannot be bottled into a photo, despite the movie magic you may have seen. So all there is to do is grab a drink and let them dance.
I’m grateful for the magic of their presence, enhanced only by darkness and a willingness to wait.
Simply passing through
“Just busy” is the only real answer I manage to give anyone these days while catching up. The substance of my days are full of my growing routines and habits, emails, edits, with just enough variation to keep me out of Groundhog Day.
A few highlights since we last spoke:
I had the opportunity to photograph a Trails Building Symposium hosted by the International Mountain Bike Association in State College, PA. While there’s only so much you can do with photographing speeches, what a joy it is to be around folks committed to learning how to build accessible and community-centric trail systems. You can learn more about it and see a few photos on their blog here.
I b-lined it home from PA in time to catch the event of the year, Mountain Cat 100. If you follow me on Instagram, you’ve no doubt seen the photos I’ve shared for the past three years. Few events make me feel more connected to Richmond than this fringe race. In past years, I’ve burnt myself out by taking it too seriously when it’s a project I take on entirely voluntarily so this year I took it easy and self-prioritized “people off bikes” because I just love a good aid station reset.
A flight to Tulsa, OK took me to cover one of my dear friends’ weddings. I’ll reiterate that I do not shoot weddings, and I continue to make that very clear with anyone who begs me. Often, when I’m asked to do weddings, it has more to do with friends needing a more affordable photographer, and I’m ok that people are seeking that option (I have my own feelings about extractive wedding industry costs), but Mary Lyn and Aaron weren’t like that. These two are artists to their core and this wedding felt like a curation. Their friends who were also “vendors” were contributing creatives to their vision and the trust they put into our hands was so beautiful.
DJ’s and my schedules have been simply passing by one another all month and he is currently on a week-long backpacking trip with friends which leaves me alone with the dogs. When I get time alone like this, I use it to change my systems since I don’t have anyone else to worry about. I try new habits, challenge myself to shift my routines and then explore if they stick once he is back.
June Flavors
Reading: I have seen people talk about Remarkably Bright Creatures by Shelby Van Pelt for a while now and I was well warned that it would make me cry, but uncontrollably sobbing while driving through backwoods PA while listening to the audiobook was not my expectation. It’s not even like I didn’t know what was going to happen. I’d almost say it was predictable, but its beautiful and such a feel-good read.
Watching: I need to talk about The Studio on Apple TV with someone as heady as me, like now. It’s not just a brilliant comedy but a critical and complex commentary on film and the film industry and quite meta in the role of TV series and the commercialization of art. It is one of the greatest things I’ve seen in years from Hollywood. There’s a lot of love for this show, but I wonder if everyone else is seeing what I’m seeing within it. Please watch it and let’s chat.
Cooking: My grill is my best friend in the summer. Nothing makes me feel more romantic about a wet hot Virginia summer like throwing down some veggies on the grill with a protein. It’s such a simple cooking method that makes everything taste better. Last year I found this recipe for grilled cabbage with paprika-lime butter, and it’s on my personal dinner menu tomorrow night. I’ll be dreaming about it until then.
Drinking: As a lover of Negronis but a lightweight, a co-worker recently introduced me to a Campari Club Soda, and I’ve been changed for good. Spending so many years only drinking beer left me missing out on other wines and spirits, but Campari has really become my go-to aperitif, so this simple little two-part drink means I can walk away standing up just fine, but get the complex flavors of a cocktail experience.
Truly simple, a shot (or however much you really want ratio ratio-wise) of Campari and club soda, ideal with a little orange or other citrus slice, though not critical. Over ice, give ‘er a stir and enjoy.
Listening: In an effort to put up some stricter consumption barriers in my overconsumption of daily media, I’ve started listening to NPR’s daily “Up First” and “Consider This” podcast episodes each morning on my walk with the dogs. The doom and gloom of headlines is exhausting, but practicing the intake of news through level-headed news sources helps me be aware and critical before the hyperbolic and sometimes (lately, often) reasonably panicked responses can reach me. This really is 32.
I’ll admit, the little NPR jingle reminds me of my dad, who definitely listened to NPR before it was cool when I was a kid. Weird nostalgia, but endearing nonetheless. Please support your local public NPR radio station and PBS.
Cosas (stuff in Spanish): A few years ago, the PR firm I work with represented prAna as they were launching their “Originals” collection, which revived old heritage styles from their early designs. There were a lot of non-gendered items I was intrigued by, but the only item I ended up acquiring was a pair of their Tornado Shorts. I can’t even link these for you because they aren’t available anywhere, but they have a longer inseam, simple, lightweight, no-frills, loose shorts. The design is painfully simple, just a thin elastic waistband and a generic shorts pattern, but the fabric is buttery soft. I sleep in them, work in them, do yoga in them at times, and dance in them. I love these shorts. I’ve recently hunted down an extra pair on Depop that I bought, and I fear I may be forever on the lookout for these shorts from second-hand sellers. If you’re reading this, prAna - bring them back. I live in them and fear the day my two pairs disintegrate.
As always, I just want to say thank you. If you’re taking the time to read this or anything I put out there. Giving myself this space to write publicly forces me to work through some mental barriers and tease out the sparks that flicker around my brain without anywhere to go. Even your remote interest in knowing what goes on up there is immensely appreciated.
Written by Tori Duhaime, photographer and movement artists
Loved this and want more. Love, Mom!