Watching Fireworks Over the Trees Tops

I grew up in the county.  Dad built our house along a dead-end dirt road.  We had neighbors on each side, but lots of fields along the road.  There was Mr. Coopers farm across the street with acres of farmland and orange trees.  The field past Granny's place was open, bumping into the dairy pasture.  And Billy and Martha lived right next door.

Living out in the county was great because there were no sidewalks and lots of space to play.  We had a large front yard where Dad installed lights and then a badminton/volley ball net was able to hook on the light poles.  We slept outside in the summer with a contest on who had the most mosquito bites the next morning.  I always won *beamin with sweet blood pride*

The Los Angeles County Fair always put on a great fireworks display for the Fourth of July.  We did go to the fairgrounds one year, if I remember correctly, but more often we just watched the fireworks as they burst over the trees from our backyard.  Of course, we would have to peek around the trees, but it was great watching the display with Billy and Martha, and Gary and Donnie when they stayed the summers with their grandparents.

Our backyard was pretty barren.  Dad had his large collection of stuff that he could dig into when he needed a part or something, but under the clothes line all the way back to the fence (where the neighboring goats lived) was open.  We'd have a little campfire, roast marshmallows and watch the fireworks over the tree tops.  Glorious!

The best way to roast the mallows is to get them good and dark.  They catch on fire pretty easily and the fun is to then pull them up and blow out the fire.  So here we are, young kids (with parental semi-supervision, of course) roasting marshmallows and watching the fireworks up over the tree tops, laughing and joking and being silly, the way kids do when they are outside after dark with parental semi-supervision.  Having fun. 

And a specifically marvelous display burst magnificently over the trees.  We all gasped and oohed and aawed.  Billy was just in the process of pulling his burning marshmallow out of the fire when this spectacular display burst overhead and he whipped around to see.  His perfectly darkened burning marshmallow smacked into my cheek.  

That was the last year we roasted marshmallows and watched the fireworks in the backyard over the tree tops with parental semi-supervision. 

Now, some 60 years later, no one would be able to see the fireworks over the tree tops from the backyard.  The trees have grown.  The city has grown.  The streets are paved.  The glorious fields are tracked.  But there was a day within my lifetime when the simple county life was fun and open and perfect for watching fireworks over the tree tops.

Have a safe and happy fourth of July
peace~~~