The Other Side of Dusk
It’s quiet in my house.
Outside? Different story.
The natives are starting to set off bottle rockets as the sky slowly darkens just the other side of dusk.
David and the two big kids are on their way with three neighbor kids to see the fireworks down by the beach. They all piled into our Suburban and Clone Wars was on the video screen before they’d even backed out of the driveway. Because when you’re 6 and 5 and 4 and 3? There’s really not much better than being packed together with your best buddies, watching a movie and going on an adventure.
Did I mention it’s quiet in my house? I’m here, while X sleeps upstairs. It’s quiet, but it’s not silent. One of my dogs is terrified of firecrackers and all loud noises. She’s currently trying to get under my chair and is panting and nudging me with her cold wet nose. She is a 90-pound baby.
I also seem to be talking to my fish.
Anyway, I love fireworks. I miss them.
I saw them all the time when I was working. The Angels have fireworks after games every Friday night in the summer but I was on deadline and didn’t have time to take in the view. I’ve seen them in other stadiums, for World Series and All Star Games. The best I ever saw was at Coors Field in Colorado, when I actually stopped writing to ooh and aah. But I watched from the press box. Which is completely different then finding just the right spot and settling down in a lawn chair on the cool grass, waiting and waiting for the show to start.
Because fireworks? They never get old. And the louder, the better. The first time my parents took me, I must’ve been three – and spent the entire time hiding under the chair and crying (much like my dog, come to think of it). One time, when I was working in upstate New York, my then-boyfriend and I watched from a blanket on the grass of a local park. The fireworks were set off so low we literally got ash in our eyes.
I never get to go now. Sawyer came along and he was too little to go, then Sage arrived. Then David would take Sawyer and I’d stay with Sage. And then X arrived.
So here I sit. With a sleeping baby, a nervous dog and a fish who doesn’t talk back.
And I’ll have to imagine the wonder in my children’s eyes as they watch the sky explode into a million brilliant colors.