It was a long day. A drive out to a friend’s house. Food cooked on the grill. Cake — white frosting, red raspberries, blue blueberries. Our kids, their kids, running around. Beer, wine, margueritas, conviviality. Mutual friends in from out of town. Sundown. A bonfire. Fireworks, smuggled in from the wild and lawless frontier of Wisconsin.
Driving home: Along the highway, off on either side — grand finales.
Home. Almost midnight. Everyone else — wife, baby, kids — asleep.
In the distance, and just outside, in the alley, down the block, continuous:
Firecrackers, bottle rockets, bigger stuff.
Crackling, booming, screeching.
I hope your 4th was as good as mine.
God bless America.