Happy 4th of July!
I watched the fireworks show on Lake Union on tv... I loved the firework hearts and cubes and stuff :)
But the best part was going outside into the street where my neighbors had had a fire going and fireworks ranging from the fountains to the grand finale.
There's nothing quite like seeing fireworks outside. Seeing it on a television can never compare.
It's not just the pretty light-show that accompanies the fireworks.
It's the smells, the slight pause when the wick has been burnt down just before the great burst of noise, the hypersensitivity that makes you jump almost every single time the fireworks go off, the butterflies in your stomach wondering whether the next fireworks will go haywire and fly into your direction, hit another car, or another kid in the arm. (the kid's fine- no burn or anything.)
It's the little boy down the block whom you know just by aquaintance giving you an unopened box of pop-its.
I have them sitting next to me. I'm going to save them for later. :)
A few years back, I remember seeing the big fireworks show down in Seattle with my dad. We had parked a while away from the fireworks but they were still so loud and powerful that I could feel them inside of me. The finale sounded like machine gun fire, and I could feel the drum roll inside of me. And I wondered, after watching the display and struck with awe, how something so potentially destructive like gunpowder could be so goddamn beautiful. That year I went home and wrote my entry... or maybe I wrote my entry the next day- but anyway, I remember thinking that fireworks were the perfect of example of how nothing is inherently evil.
Happy birthday, America.
But the best part was going outside into the street where my neighbors had had a fire going and fireworks ranging from the fountains to the grand finale.
There's nothing quite like seeing fireworks outside. Seeing it on a television can never compare.
It's not just the pretty light-show that accompanies the fireworks.
It's the smells, the slight pause when the wick has been burnt down just before the great burst of noise, the hypersensitivity that makes you jump almost every single time the fireworks go off, the butterflies in your stomach wondering whether the next fireworks will go haywire and fly into your direction, hit another car, or another kid in the arm. (the kid's fine- no burn or anything.)
It's the little boy down the block whom you know just by aquaintance giving you an unopened box of pop-its.
I have them sitting next to me. I'm going to save them for later. :)
A few years back, I remember seeing the big fireworks show down in Seattle with my dad. We had parked a while away from the fireworks but they were still so loud and powerful that I could feel them inside of me. The finale sounded like machine gun fire, and I could feel the drum roll inside of me. And I wondered, after watching the display and struck with awe, how something so potentially destructive like gunpowder could be so goddamn beautiful. That year I went home and wrote my entry... or maybe I wrote my entry the next day- but anyway, I remember thinking that fireworks were the perfect of example of how nothing is inherently evil.
Happy birthday, America.