Every year we have a party the day before the 4th of July, which happens to be when our town does the fireworks. Every year, I look forward to it. I love a good party, and this one has become a tradition and usually leaves us with a house full of overnight guests and a laid back day swimming on the actual 4th.
But this year, the threat of Hurricane Arthur postponed our annual fun. An eighty percent chance of heavy rain blanketed the entire day's forecast. The cancellation was made even more bitter because it didn't rain, despite the ominous black clouds that lurked in the corners. The twenty percent held strong.
A much smaller group watched flickers of fireworks across the bay and spotlights crossing the sky from the hotel down the road. But the best light show was, by far, the lightening playing in the clouds above, never making its way down.
I saw in myself a quality I criticize in Sena: an inability to cope with disappointment. My instinct was to pout. I just wanted to be surrounded by friends and grilled meat and controlled explosives, and to do what we do every year. But that's just not the way it always goes.
Today we will try again, with far less people than usual. But I bet if I can stop moping, it'll be just as wonderful.