In my experience there are two different kinds of 4th of July celebrations. The kind in the cute red white and blue outfits and dresses and shorts and hats. With parades and candy and picnics and backyard shenanigans and probably some sort of mixed drinks in a gallon pitcher in the backyard that drips its stickiness onto the grass. There is running through the same grass barefoot. And sprinklers and sparklers. And slip and slides. And watermelon and hot dogs and BBQ grills and loud music. At the end of the day fireworks are lit far away and you catch in the same grass once again or from a hill and listen to the Star Spangled Banner over the radio that is synchronized with the fire works show. The the show illuminates the darkened purple sky. And you clap at the end because it’s so beautiful.
And then there’s the 4th of July spent in the wild. In the country or the mountains full of bugs and fireflies and toads by the river and in the middle of the corn filed. And hammocks spread across a perfect couple of trees. Or a couple of imperfect couple of trees. There’s campfires and s’mores. Dirty hands and faces and feet. And giggling and exploring. Coffee in quiet places.and drinks around the fire ring. Old stories and new stories. There’s still sparklers. There is always sparklers.
Both kinds~ perfect kinds of days.
I’ve had both. But this year I needed the escape.
I needed the river. And toads. And corn fields. And irrigation ditches. And fireflies. And early morning walks. And late night fires.
Thank you family, for letting me have that.
