We sat on the hillside, bursts of color explode overhead. We've spent the day at my grandparents house, relaxing, eating yummy summer foods and keeping cool in their house. We spent the morning watching the annual parade downtown Prescott. It has been a wonderful Fourth of July. Now here we are, the day is nearing the end. My grandparents opted to stay home while my parents, my brother and I went down to the high school to watch the fireworks before heading home to New River.
"Wow, those fireworks look really close." Mom observed, and indeed they did look like they were close enough to touch. In my young mind, I fantasized about what it might be like to touch one of those glittery pieces of light. I imagined they'd be like pieces of glitter, all smooth and prickly at the same time.
Suddenly a fiery piece came floating down landing on the hillside where we were sitting. It extinguished and cooled quickly. Before long, my brother picked it up and we examined the burned piece of firework. Just a burnt piece of cardboard I think. It was fascinating and disappointing all at the same time. A part of me lost the illusion of the magic fireworks had to offer, so far in the sky. Unreachable, untouchable, and suddenly in our hands.
Deciding it was too cool a thing, my brother kept the piece of firework to take home and show his friends. On the drive home we quickly learned one more thing about fireworks. The unreachable, and untouchable glittery magic was unbelievably smelly. Barely a mile or two into the drive home, the smell of sulfur was so strong dad pulled into the next rest station and my brother sprinted to the trash can.
The wonderful smelly piece of sky glitter was gone for good. The memories of that night however, will live on forever in my mind.
No comments:
Post a Comment