I enjoy fireworks. The best display I ever experienced was on the shore of Lake Michigan, at the Northwestern University boathouse. David and I happened to belong to the boating club, and members were invited to partake of the grounds. The Evanston fireworks happened to be launched from immediately adjacent. Oh, the booms! And the glittering light right overhead! And the evening air so silky warm! It was great.
|Nags Head, North Carolina, 2007|
Doesn't stop people from indulging, however.
It drives our dog, Milo, batty from terror. He trembles. He pants. His heart goes cloppety-cloppety-clop. He tries to bury himself in the corner of the closet. Right now, he is at my feet under the desk. Soon we will watch a movie, and hopefully that will distract him. (He doesn't watch, but you know what I mean. Maybe the movie will drown out the big bad booms? Unlikely, but one can wish.)
Postscript: Turns out plenty of fireworks were shot off on July 4, as attested by this image of 150 stacked photos taken that evening between 8:57 and 9:13 by local photographer George Krieger from his rooftop. The sounds continued well past midnight. So much for the warnings!