Praise then darkness, and creation unfinished

I went to the Macy's July 4th fireworks last night, with eleanor and two non-LJer friends of hers. We set out later than planned, and had some trouble getting into the viewing area, but managed.

Things started later than scheduled, with bits of "I want my fireworks!" whin(g)ing, and eventually me deciding that it was my turn to play Mom, and promising everyone we could have ice cream when it was over. (This didn't work out, because we couldn't think of anywhere in that neighborhood that would be selling ice cream at that hour, but it felt right to promise, and I had chocolate ice cream when I got home.)

The show was worth waiting for. Wow! Many booms, many bright lights, gorgeous colors and patterns. There was an orange I don't think I've seen before. My favorite patterns were the one that filled large pieces of sky with soft-edged white glow, and the ones that rose in what seemed to be helixes.

We are a clever, clever people.

What I don't understand is the people who left in the middle of the display: not only the ones who seemed to think that one brief pause was the end, but the ones who were heading out at what seemed like random times. Maybe their feet hurt (mine did by the time I got home) or they really really needed a bathroom or a bottle of water.

Along with the big East River show, and booming from what I think was a New Jersey show, there were lots of freelance fireworks. Some over Brooklyn helped keep us happy while we waited for the main attraction. I heard lots of booms walking home from the subway, but didn't see the flashes; they seemed to be south and east, so behind me (meaning mostly in the Bronx, I think), and there were buildings in the way. I went to bed around midnight, to an occasional low boom through the closed window (air conditioning is good).