The stage is black. The slowly, by ones and twos, now dozens and hundreds, the night comes alive with fireflies. Fitting, dancing, hopping, they bring warmth and beauty to the vast emptiness of space. As gradually as they came, they fade away, leaving a single dancing jewel. As the stage lights up, we find the Skywatcher, firefly-fishing on the banks of an imaginary river.

With the lights dimmed and the drip, drip, drip of water echoing off the canvas of the big top, once again the big top fills with the buzzing of fireflies - first one, then two, then a dozen, then more - arranged in an optical display that is simple, elegant, and beautiful. As the mass of lights dance about, one single firefly rises above the rest - but when the lights come up, it's only the Skywatcher, casting his fly fishing rod back and forth!