I missed the 4th of July fireworks last year because I was too busy having a wonderful meal with the man I was falling in love with, followed by an evening walk under the Brooklyn bridge. The heat was oppressive, but the East River brought a faint breeze and the artificial starlight of an urban horizon.
This year, we missed the 4th of July fireworks because we were exhausted from a long day of sun & fun with a 6-week-old baby, and because the mosquitoes were making a meal of us all. Maybe we’ll catch them next year.
I’ve spent the last year falling in love – first with my now-husband, and then with my son. There are no signs that this will ever stop, and I’m so grateful.