EVERY SO OFTEN an experience leads our family to ask whether we should live in the country.

We had one of those moments a few nights ago after standing in a Smithfield meadow.

Appearing, and disappearing, fireflies put on a show. They winked green, white or orange above the milkweed and goldenrod on both sides of the path.

Depending upon the species, insects blinked once, twice or three times. Some fireflies flew lazily, while others zipped by.

These traveling holiday lights were males. Abdomens hanging low to show off their glows, they strutted in flight for females, positioned on meadow vegetation and surrounding trees to blink back approval. Some females did respond, including two from the same stalk of wetland vegetation just to our right.

In southern New England, fireflies blink from late June through the mid-July. We were in Smithfield at a program presented by the Audubon Society of Rhode Island.

Since moving to Providence 12 years ago, we’ve not seen many fireflies in the city. But they’re there, if we were to look in the right places, said Kim Calcagno, refuge manager of Powder Mill Ledges.

For example, Calcagno described daytime fireflies, a relatively long-bodied species found on bark and outer tree branches. These afternoon delights don’t light up, and often go unnoticed, she said.

Back out in Smithfield, we saw firsthand how light pollution dictated the dynamics of nature. Situated in the radiance of Apple Valley Mall and adjoining shopping centers, the Audubon Center treetops appeared bathed in sunrise.

Among its effects, light pollution disrupts the breeding of local birds and causes fireflies to blink less often, said Calcagno. That night the store shine made it difficult even to see the Big Dipper.

Rhode Island hosts 16 of the world’s 170 fire-fly species. Besides winking back and forth to each other in a mating ritual, fireflies blink to warn mates of danger and to send a message to predators to stay away. After mating, some females mimic the pattern of an unsuspecting smaller male of another species, which the female lures and eats.

Around the globe and over the centuries, cultures have honored the firefly, occasionally incorporating it into local folklore. Fireflies serve as symbols in film and art, with certain cultures suggesting that the insects represented spirits, or ghosts, traveling off into the night, Calcagno said.

During the 17th and 18th centuries, some women pinned flashing bugs to their clothing or hair, twinkling along to a ball or social engagement, she said.

When I lived in Columbus, my apartment bordered a park that burned in a psychedelic, strobe-lit frenzy of blinking fireflies during hot, humid nights. We saw this as well over the fields of State College, Pa., where we lived before moving to Providence.

Living in the city, we’ve looked for fireflies at night in the backyard or on the darker streets. We have not prowled parkland after dark, but maybe we should, if we want to see fireflies during the final run of their post-sunset show. Or, move to the country.

Scott Turner is a Providence-based nature writer. His columns appear here each Saturday ( scottturnerster@gmail.com).