Not a War Zone, and Yet

I sit inside my comfortable home. Plates with a few crumbs remaining from our delicious dinner – mesquite smoked pork tenderloin and roasted veggies –  sit on a side table. My husband and I talk quietly of our plans for tomorrow. Maggie, the chocolate Lab, snores. 

Then I hear muffled, booming sounds, and a keening screech. I am startled until I realize it is the sound of distant fireworks. We walk up stairs to the second floor terrace, and then up dark wooden steps to the small third story open deck. Venus is bright. A breeze cools the July air. We can see and hear fireworks in a 360 degree radius, from the northernmost end of the county, to downtown, the bay, and even to neighboring Alabama.

It felt like the earth itself needed to blow off some steam. 

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