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Last night, we walked downtown to the carnival. We listened to the screaming coming from the Octopus, we watched as a woman maneuvered a double stroller around the crowd with such deftness that we both stared at her in amazement, and I ate the majority of a funnel cake with cherry topping. Then we walked back home, stopping to wait for a train to pass, and pausing to soak in the absolute perfection of a July Saturday night.
At ten o’clock, we turned off all the lights, went out to
the balcony wrapped in a fleece blanket, and watched the fireworks
display. We could barely hear the
popping, but we could see all of them in their vivid gold, red, green, blue,
and yellow. We bumped our hips under the
blanket and oohed and aahed at the appropriate times and when we clapped at the
finale, we laughed, aware that it was a private viewing and our appreciation would
go unknown by those who organized and set off the fireworks.
Today the fireworks are over, the carnival is packing up, and
the clouds came in from the west. The
wildflowers are wild, the air is once again July muggy, and the magical holiday
spell is over. But it was a moment to
remember.
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To see what Bestest Friend wrote about the theme of the day, check out her blog, Too Legit to Quit.
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