Fourth

Our country's official birthday has come and gone for another year. I live in a state that loves its fireworks so there was much snap, crack and popping going on. Of course, fireworks are illegal within city limits but, of course, that ordinance is only adhered to by the rule followers. The urge to play with explosives is strong, indeed.

My early memories of 4th of July celebrations also included fireworks. I grew up on a farm so the sky was the limit, literally, with fireworks. We were given a strict budget for how much we could purchase at the local fireworks stand and if you wanted something extra, you had best dig into your own piggy bank. My brothers loved the firecrackers with the loudest noise and at that time, Black Cats were the way to go. My bros would weave several of them together, light the fuse and run. We all waited in anticipation for the domino sound effects to begin and delighted in each and every loud pop.

My sisters and I were into less noise and more flash. We enjoyed the smudgy little magic snakes as they danced like cobras on our sidewalk. We loved roman candles as they spit out balls of glittery light into the sky. Our favorite was probably the box of sparklers that allowed all of us to be in control of our own dazzle effects. Bright colors, dripping sparks and swirling possibilities made for a great time as the night came to a close.

Our hometown did not have a 4th of July parade but it occasionally had an event called a tractor pull. The day included other a activities which have faded into a fuzzy memory for me, but I do remember the culminating moments of the tractor pull. Tractors were pitted against each other in a contest to pull the greatest load on a sled of sorts. Tractors were not the behemoths we have today but a farming community's machines are always a source of pride, no matter the era. Tractors belched and engines gunned as bragging rights were loaded onto the sled. I don't know if there was any prize money involved but I suspect there was a trophy or two and maybe a fancy certificate of honor. The evening concluded with a head count of kids as we piled back into our non-air-conditioned car for a sticky ride back home.

Many of our 4th of July days came and went without much fanfare. Life on a farm doesn't always check the calendar for holidays. If rain was in the forecast and field work was necessary, that was the order for the day. If cattle broke through fences, the chase began, regardless of the day and fences were given immediate attention. If garden beans needed picking, buckets were filled and canning jars were readied. Daily duties hummed along and a life of leisure was best not longed for.

All was well, however, if we could end the day with a few fireworks. The magic snakes and firecrackers entertained us as the day's light began to wane and the roman candles took over when darkness fell. And, of course, the sparklers made it possible to conclude the night with, "Happy Birthday, America!"

Fireworks captured by my sad camera from a balcony
 in Corvallis, OR, several years ago.