Today is Independence Day, and I celebrated in true American fashion. S’mores, sparklers, watching the fireworks shoot off the bay, rewatching National Treasure for the millionth time– all with family, of course. Every year I seem to love sparklers more; the goldenness of them, the way they make one feel– a sort of invincibility comes from watching those miniature fireworks consume the substance that keeps them going.
I am desperately lucky to call this place my home. And someday, when I have the money– and boy, do I hope I have the money, I will travel each coast and as many places in between as I can. I want to see the vast expanse that this country is built upon, and the history of all that.
When I came inside from twirling in golden light and feeling the roar of firecrackers tremble my heart, the dog came bustling at me. I sat on the couch and let him snuggle in beside me, trying his best to keep his cool as fireworks clapped outside. He trotted at my feet when I went to my room to put my pajamas on, and settled in on my bed, making friends with a teddy bear. I feel awfully sorry for the pup, those big bat ears being battered with the thunderous sound of the festivities. ‘This too shall pass’, a favourite phrase of my mother’s, I whispered to him.
Thanks for being such a clement month to celebrate in. You are warm, but not nearly as scorching as August or as unpredictable as June. You, July, are altogether perfect.