It's about the picnic on the farm with your family, and all you do all day is pet horses, look for four-leaf clovers and take turns on the tree swing.
It's about throwing on a bathing suit and sundress and heading to Westbrook at noon. (It's about not wearing make-up because it will block the sun from your skin, and who wants that?)
It's about reuniting with friends, family and neighbors that you haven't seen in days, months or even years. It's about the pang in your stomach when you remember the old times. It's about wondering where the years went and realizing how much different and yet the same everyone is.
It's about going out on the motorboat and tubing. It's about getting over the fact that a jellyfish stung you in your rear end.
It's about potato salad and cheeseburgers and hot dogs on the grill. It's about being seventeen and sneaking upstairs with your friends to sip your first Corona.
It's about the sun beaming down and kissing your shoulders until they're pink, red and then finally brown. It's about the first time a boy ever asked for your number, and how bummed you are later that you didn't have time to give it to him before his parents whisked him away.
It's about karaoke, and never having the guts to participate.
It's about fighting with your high school sweetheart all afternoon until the first firework when you immediately forget everything negative and curl up under the stars. It's about him whispering he can see the glow of happiness in your eyes as you watch the fireworks. (It's about realizing that's the nicest thing he ever said to you, and now thanking God for not answering your prayers back then that you'd marrying him. (;
It's about looking left to right and seeing the hundreds of townspeople and their friends lined up along the seawall. It's about everyone facing up at the sky with their mouths partially opened saying "ooh" and "ahh." It's about gazing across the coastline around you and across from you, counting to see how many dozens of private firework displays there are along the Long Island Sound.
It's about lying on a blanket on the beach, laughing with friends and squealing when a sand crab scampers across your bare foot. It's about your neck becoming sore from turning from left to right, left to right to see fireworks close, far, and everywhere around you.
It's about trying to take pictures of the fireworks and ending up with little squiggles of color on a black background in every photo.
It's about listening to the waves rippling along the shore in between every burst of gorgeous, colorful light. It's about the line of smoke that streaks across the moon above you.
It's about clutching your husband's arm as a firework is set up ten feet away from you and you're convinced it will tip over in the sand and shoot in your direction. It's about ignoring every gnat that bites your ankle, and it's about accidentally knocking your heads together and realizing you just killed one of those gnats in between your foreheads. (What weird team work!)
It's about after the firework display, someone yells, "GO!" and all the kids run to collect the little parachute soldiers that soared down from the fireworks.
It's about the sound of Montgomery Gentry singing "This is My Town" as a little boy skips by with a sparkler. It's about Kenny Chesney singing "Back Where I Come From" as you wish every day could be this amazing.
It's about our country's freedom. It's about realizing how far we've come since that miraculous day we won our independence. It's about efforts to decrease global warming, the first African-American president of the United States of America.
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