Going outside on July 4th in the States tends to sound a bit like a distant combat zone. Flashes in the distant horizon, the sounds of shells exploding and the rat-tat-tat-tat-tat echoing up the hillsides.
But something that is just as “July 4th” as these sounds are the ingress and egress of long lines of cars to view the biggest fireworks shows. My childhood almost never knew a July 4th without fireworks. The sun could not set fast enough.
In my hometown, there are mountains surrounding the lake where a special barge launches the whole ordeal. What used to be an area where only my family and a couple others who lived up here to watch the fireworks has now grown into dozens and dozens of cars. The hillside is cleared for a real estate development.
Now, the original families in attendance – as well as mine and my closest neighbors – I doubt even go anymore. We’re all grown up, anyway. But if we did, we may still go to our other, more hidden place nearby with the best view of the show. The place where we always have gone, the trail is still almost visible. We could still have our unobstructed views while the other mobs are climbing on top of big pick-up trucks trying to see over the cars. Our place is still inaccessible by car. “Ewww, the grass is wet.” We walked it without flashlights. Don’t hurt your night vision.
Bygone eras, I suppose.
Where the thick forest used to stand, now a development where only three mini-mansions on quarter-acre lots, the three built before the “recession” slowed the sale of property in this area. But not before the hillside was stripped bare. I played here with my friends though in the summer it was sometimes too thick to see each other.
But the fireworks can be seen now by the mob. Memories for other families, sure, but far different from my own. Pull the kids away from the Xbox long enough to drive out there, plant them in a lawn chair for the fireworks, and be thankful the dew is keeping the mosquitoes at bay even though the complaints will be “the grass is wet.”
Stay tuned, my friends…
-Noah D.
