The air smelled of ripe fish. It clung to everything about the little mobile trailer park where we stayed every weekend in the summer. It was the beginning of July, but on Put-in-Bay, the breeze off the water always felt cool and comfortable.
I picked my way across the gravel roads in front of three trailers to the massive boulders outlining the shore. My favorite flat dry boulder was right where I left it. I sat down and opened up to the curved horizon in front of me. Fireworks, the big ones that cities invest in, burst into being from at least five different points at various points across the bay.
The display was accompanied by the gentle lapping of waves on the rocks below. Crawfish scuttled across rocks. The occasional fish jumped. Other than that, complete silence. Why was my family not out here to see this? In fact, why wasn’t anyone else? This was one of the most beautiful, multiple fireworks display I’d ever seen in my short life.
Those thoughts drifted away and were replaced. I must be special. I must be the only one from this particular vantage point who can appreciate this beauty.