We’ve been going as a family to the private fireworks on the bay in Osterville for as long as I can remember. My dad would secure us with a friend’s boat (if his lobster boat was no longer on that side) & we’d pack some snacks, put on some layers and head on out to admire the summer night-time sky.
Every year I’d be a little afraid when we’d first anchor down because my dad had a habit of getting as close to the barge as he could (but out of the wind of course) and I worried because he never did. Over the years I’ve learned to trust in my dad’s intuition (as crazy as it may be sometimes) and I’m in awe of his adventurous and trusting nature of all things. When I’m more conservative about things he just keeps on blazing his own path without question, and I have to say, it’s setting quite the example for me in those places in my life.
This year might have been the best fireworks display I have ever seen. We were so close to the barge it was as if the display was just for us. The ocean lit up with every spark & every color. At times it sounded as if the whole forest surrounding us was one giant bass drum being pounded again and again. Distant but all encompassing at the same time. It was awesome.
We had no choice but to be in the moment and smell the salty breeze, hear the bing bam boom, see the sky turn different colors and feel proud and free. The pictures speak for themselves… they look like a tiny piece of the bigger picture, the universe, that thing we’re all apart of and connected to… and reminded me of the most beautiful Frank Frazetta paintings.
(moments after my favorite hat was taken off of rory’s head & into the sea. RIP.)