Snap Crackle Pop

We had a very slightly illegal 4th of July fireworks display with the fam--bottle rockets and sparklers and such. It was frolicky fun. That night when we got home, our neighborhood had been transformed into some sort of benign, sparkly war zone. The cracking and booming of massive showers of fireworks was continuous--not more than a second or two break between firings. And the display wasn't just from one neighbor--it was ALL over the neighborhood. I counted 8 locations within a couple blocks that were boasting huge airborne displays, not to mention the dozens of smaller firecrackers and whippersnappers and such.


Ours is a good neighborhood for pyrotechnics. From the front porch, we watched the neighbors haul large unspecified objects into the middle of the road, light them, and saunter away before the explosion. (the pictures in this post are from that display) They noticed us and one girl came down to ask if it was bothersome. Hecks no! (Though it did cause us to wonder if we had a reputation of some sort--we're so tight with the police, you know.) We stood there watching for a little while. It was amusing to see everyone rush out and kick the smoking husks to the curb whenever a car happened hesitantly along our street.

The consistent crackling and flashing may sound annoying, but it actually was magical, and kind of dream-like. Our neighborhood was temporarily transformed--everybody outside and all craning up toward the sky. We stood on the driveway and the massive fireworks exploded directly over us. We couldn't hear anything but fireworks and occasional clapping from various approving neighbors, and the fireworks themselves cast surreal, flickering light that made beautiful things that, in daylight, were familar and mundane.


We came inside grinning from ear to ear, a little deaf, and covered in tiny pieces of ash.