I love the 4th of July. I have loved the fireworks ever since I can remember...starting at Harbor Island in Mamaroneck, NY...to all the years on Pleasant Lake...to the one year that I was out of the country and realized that only Americans celebrated the 4th! The year was 1984 and I was in Mexico at the time...it was a strange time for me!

July 4th has always truly been at Pleasant Lake...or Pond, as my parents preferred...from the age of 4 until I was 16. The Lake Association always put on a lovely fireworks display but most importantly, they passed out road flares a day or two before the 4th. These flares were the most important aspect of the 4th for me, they held all of the magic inside them. True road flares, they came with a lethal looking nail point on one end, for sticking into a surface, and a waxy cap on the other end. Somebody from the Lake Association tootled around in a skip. usually the "tin can" variety with a small outboard motor attached, delivered the flare without much fanfare. He handed it off to us kids without any acknowledgement of the importance of the delivery. My mother always put the flare in a "safe spot" until the moment of use arrived, after we kids examined it and declared it ready for use.

Our family was blessed with a tiny spit of true beach on the lake, and we always planted our flare in the sand. Meg's family had a tree, which later became a stump, that was used for their flare. The tree trunk had many flare pegs still stuck into its flesh, a reminder of all the 4th that had passed. As our flare was simple stuck into the sand, the challenge was to wait until the stub had cooled (usually the next morning) which my brother and I would then fight over who got the lethal weapon, and proceed to threaten each other with the nail stub until our mother took the device away.

The magic was in the darkness, when all camps on the lake lit their flare, usually within ten minutes of each other, and the lake was ringed with bright red and sparkling lights. It was magical, and beautiful. Our lake danced in red, with repeated reflections of flares on the water, lapping from end to end. My brother, and Meg were allowed to sit closely near the flare, as it spit out its sulfurous smoke, glowing red light, and waxy sputterings. It was like having a magic signal to the world of our lake, we were one, and we belonged to the lake. We smelled like sulfur, we were covered with bug spray and sand, and we loved the night.

Happy Fourth of July to all!