Yesterday was Independence Day for the United States. Here in the upper Midwest, it was dark and cloudy, but cleared up just in time for fireworks. I was originally going to write about how yesterday - while at work - I was reminded over and over again how divided we all are, even on this supposed day of unity. Then last night happened. We celebrated with new friends and watched a beautiful fireworks display. Great food, family, and new games. (I was talked into playing flippy cup, which was interesting as I don't drink.)

Fireworks used to be one of the most magical things to me when I was a kid. They were beautiful. The lights chased each other around the sky, as I imagined fairies probably did out in some untouched field when people weren't looking. I realized last night that fireworks haven't lost their wonderment. They still take me right back to being 8 years old in my parents backyard with a bonfire going and friends all around exploding lights of red, blue, purple, green, and every combination thereof into the night sky. It truly is magical. It's unifying, and allows a few minutes of peace in this all too scary modern world.

Love and Lyte,

Fire Lyte


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