Lot's of July 4ths have come and gone but this one I'll always remember:

I grew up on a peninsula jetting out into the Pacific blue. I was ten this 4th when my mom packed up the kids and drove us to the south side, a place called Portuguese Bend. From this area of rugged cliffs you can see Catalina Island. We parked, carried our blankets and picnic basket and found a spot among other families and young couples. We sat close to but not too close to the cliff’s edge. While we waited for the sun to set we chatted to a mother and son sitting next to us. They were visiting from England and I very much enjoyed listening to their cool British accents. As the sky turned dark shades of blues and purples the first firework was set off from the cove below us. I lay my head down on the blanket as the fireworks flew above and showered me in soft cascades of bright light.

I thought it was magic.