Okay, I may complain about the fireworks for days and days around this time of year, but there is another side to that. I get annoyed by the noise of them, but I love the lights. In fact, I'm enchanted by the lights. They more than make up for the rest of the fireworks issues.
Like the sidelined and orphaned children that we are, my roommate and I sat on our porch tonight and watched the city's fireworks display. Each BOOM rewarded us with giant poofs of color and flicker, as the sky lit up like some giant afro, switching from one color to the next, to finally just wisps of light. Over and over, we got to watch as beauty danced and exploded into the sky. It made me truly happy.
This small bit of watching the lights is the tradition I share with my roommate during the 4th. We don't do much,but we do shade these moments of delight as the sky changes for us. It means a lot to me that we share this. It's how I feel about all of our little, odd traditions.
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