Relative Something

Last night, at about dusk, fireworks of all sizes began to pop and boom around the lake. Having already engaged in all of our celebratory competitions on Saturday, I forgot that yesterday was actually our Independence Day. It caused me to realize how unattached I am to fireworks on the 4th. Granted, it has always been one of the quaint highlights of our celebration up here –and I am, indeed, a big fan of firework shows– but once the reality that we wouldn’t be having any fireworks this year became obvious, I moved on to other diversions.

It’s certainly not due to any lack of interest in a fireworks show. I really do love them. I just don’t feel any strong need to experience them in relation to the 4th of July. Fireworks now seem to occur in a variety of other places at other times of the year for any number of events. If I am lucky enough to be around at the time, wonderful! If not, no big deal.

I suppose I am missing something by being apathetic about observance of the anniversary of our independence, and more specifically my lack of need for the exploding of fireworks as tribute. I believe part of my reasoning for not taking any action myself, relates to money. I certainly am not inclined to shell out the cost of purchasing the fireworks myself for a night of dangerous effort of making noisy sparkling spectacles. It sounded last night like I was one of only a few who aren’t so inclined.

I felt a moment of being detached from the collection of people I could hear across the water who were making quite a ruckus in honor of the occasion. With no interest in creating my own show, and no drive to seek out any one else’s, I felt alone; even though there were others in the house who were actually in the very same situation as me. I guess we were alone, together, if that makes any sense.

By about 11:00 p.m. the noise was becoming less frequent, and thankfully, more distant. I imagined that it very well could be an accurate representation of the distant battle sounds of our fledgling country at war with the British. That thought brings to mind my favorite depiction of that time period in the movie, “The Last of the Mohicans,” the 1992 movie version of the James Fenimore Cooper novel set in the time of the French and Indian war of the 18th century. Maybe I should seek out that film again, for it moves me much more than fireworks do.

I guess I relate much more to the Mohican characters in the story, for their being caught between the conflict of the British and the French over control of the land and of the colonists and natives who live there. I am grateful for the freedom achieved by this country of which I am a citizen, but more often than not, I feel caught between the injustices our country is associated with from the past, and the political shenanigans our government continues to practice going forward.

One thing I will not overlook in observing this anniversary of our independence is the day off from work today. I am fully behind that practice.