sparkling trees and flights of stars

Fireworks make me happy. The glittering blast of color falling in fragments on black, black dark. Such extravagance. Explosives and chemicals and bright, cheap packaging all in the service of something so pretty that lasts no time at all.

Though I have to say, seeing boxes and boxes of them piled on top of each other in busy stores is a little strange.



At least a small fire extinguisher stands ready to avert disaster. (I wonder though, how much can one brave red canister do against three aisles of pyrotechnics?) We resisted greed and only took a single box.

Oh, the anticipation. I can't wait for it to be dark.