Monday, July 05, 2004

Stretched Fourth 

Ain't no better beer for a toast to independence!


Many towns round these rural parts don't hold with late Sunday night fireworks no matter when the 4th officially falls. Our third-floor french windows (arguably the best feature of the apartment, especially in the heat-and-humid attic summer) provided solid vantage of distant momentary moon-sized phenomena post-nightfall on the eve of both third and fourth, and in various directions, some known, some only guessed at: Greenfield, Turners Falls, and a myriad of other green hills both private and municipal.

Also a parade with Willow, wife, and in-laws watched from the shade of the old Unitarian Church in downtown Brattleboro, the very end of a long, staggering, steep route. Willow liked the crowds, the Shriners' tiny eighteen wheelers, and the bands, most especially the bagpipers, though perhaps as much for novelty as nuance. And a midafternoon barbecue and swim up in Newfane with the in-law's in-laws, through wife's brother Josh and his sig-o Clay, with yummy grilled whole local garlic cloves, spicy chicken, and Dogfish Head Beer, the best microbrew beer in the world, high-octane and sweet Raison D'Etre and a powerhouse 60 Minute IPA, now happily available at local supermarkets and package stores everywhere. We brought the five pound bag of shrimp.

No fireworks, though we did find a small cracker in the playground this morning before the rains came, and set it off for a dampened crack just to see if it would after all. One year I hope her tiny ears will be strong enough, and her heart brave and experienced enough to try. Until then, sparks in the distance from several towns all-at-once seem to bring wonder enough.

posted by boyhowdy | 9:28 PM |

---

Comments:
Post a Comment