don’t get me wrong. i love the fourth of july. give me any excuse to eat a hot dog and extra dessert and i’m quite content. plus, right smack dab in the midst of summer. what could be better? i have very fond memories of myself on the fourth of july at various ages with various people, watching fireworks of various shades of the rainbow.
ah, fireworks, you old familiar friend. how you make my blood pressure soar, my nerves tingle. i know i’m not the only one who feels this way. my cat and dog, for instance, hate fireworks. many war veterans shudder at the thought, refugees of war-torn countries, as well as my kids. little kids don’t like explosives going off all over their neighborhood. go figure.
call me un-american. well, we went to go and see some despite my misgivings and by the time we got back, our block was lit up with explosions, people wandering the streets, darting to meet each other. i’m not going to lie, i had to fight to keep the panic down, and though i reassured ruth that it was all fine, we quickly started to make our way to shelter, back to the house.
we were hunched down, headed for home, when from behind the rooftops, rose a single, silent lantern. you know the kind? like a small white hot air balloon with a little candle flame at the bottom that inflates and floats upward until it goes out? then, there was another, and another. as i watched them make their ascent, i felt a calmness rise within me. “now that,” i thought, “is a cool fourth of july tradition.” how neat would it be if instead of loud and offensive fireworks, people sent up these peaceful floating lanterns?
i wonder where they got them from. i should look it up. for next year…