Drew and I talked a lot this weekend about how we both look forward to the 4th of July because it’s always been a free day in the middle of the summer when parents are supposed to be at work and children get to look forward all of the little icons of summer that add up to create our collective memory of those wonderfully hot and playful childhood days. In addition to the history of Independence Day, when someone starts talking about the 4th of July, my mind starts swimming with visions of watermelon and the sounds of cicadas, potluck meals, colorful picnic blankets, tanned knees, and Queen Anne’s Lace. I can sense the excitement of watching fireworks and waiting for the finale and can perfectly see the tipped up and illuminated faces of friends sitting in the dark and staring into a psychedelic sky. The 4th is so symbolic of the height and heat of summer, of friends getting together and of the dreams of reckless abandon that this time of year awakens in our hearts. The car windows roll down, the dog tongues flop out and the wind in our hair is just a whisper of the freedom that we each secretly long for in these long hot days. It’s just so summer.
For our part, we celebrated with friends and family, though with The Young Sir in tow, our night ended not on a blanket staring at the sky, but on a back porch with fireflies doing their best to keep time and the crinkly pops and booms of fireworks in the distance. We had our laughs and fill of potluck fare, and then we came home to a quiet house with a sleeping boy and watched the stars come out before we turned in. It was a fine summer day.
Pictures to follow, we are at my parent’s house hanging out with my brother who’s visiting from NC, and the internet connection is not down with uploading photos.