It’s July 3rd, after 10pm. Boom, boom, crackle, screeeeeech of fireworks echoing across the lake. The moon is almost full, spinning a trail of glittering silver across the water. Beyond the pines I can hear deeper booms of bigger explosives far away. Across the lake there’s a bonfire, surrounded by laughter. Farther down the lake is a live band playing decent guitar. I still can’t quite believe that I get to live here, on the water. The moon on the water is so magical. Diamonds and fairies and stardust.
I love writing out here on the porch. Eager to get internet service.
Eager to build my firepit too. I’ve been putting it off because it involves carrying those bastard-heavy construction bricks. I’ve been assuming that I’m not strong enough to carry them. But now that I’ve pulled down the kitchen ceiling – I need to test that assumption. I know I’m getting stronger – I can do things I wasn’t able to just a few months ago. I’m also learning that even though something requires physical effort and is hard, that’s no reason to avoid it.
One brick at a time. Just do the next step. The bricks are across the street, so I could load a couple in the little trailer that goes with the riding lawn mower and bring them right down to the beach. Then a little while later, a couple more.
I think I want tiki torches over here too. Or candles. Something organic and magic.
Oh! An aerial firework! Bright green!
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