Hodgepodge 248/365 - Fireworks

 
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.

Monterey used to have fireworks, which were shot off from a barge near the Commercial Wharf—usually, straight up into a fog bank. It was very colorful fog. Occasionally, the fog would stay away and we got an actual show. We were in the habit of walking from our house to the beach and then along the beach to the wharf. As we approached the working waterfront, the beach would become more and more densely packed with people playing with sparklers or little whirly fireworks or firecrackers. It was something like a civilized war zone.

Nags Head, North Carolina, 2007

But the city ceased the firework displays several years ago. Now, firework stands spring up the week before the Fourth, together with big signs courtesy of the local municipalities advising that fireworks are illegal; anyone caught shooting off fireworks will suffer a fine and perhaps arrest.

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.)

Honolulu, 2009

I can't really remember the last time we watched a fireworks show. It may have been in Honolulu several years back (eight years ago, wow! how time flies). I miss them. Maybe one of these Fourths we'll have to take ourselves somewhere where they still celebrate in that way. Except, it'll have to be after Milo is no longer with us. Until then, we need to stick close by him and comfort him as best we can. Poor Milo.

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!