Waiting for Fireworks

Happy Fourth of July! This is Logan; you have met him before. Tonight we were waiting for it to get dark enough to set off some neighborhood fireworks. It's been a lovely grandchild visit and they are leaving tomorrow. Sigh.

I Hear America Singing

I hear America singing, the varied carols I hear, 

Those of mechanics, each one singing his as it should be blithe and strong, The carpenter singing his as he measures his plank or beam, 

The mason singing his as he makes ready for work, or leaves off work, The boatman singing what belongs to him in his boat, the deckhand singing on the steamboat deck, The shoemaker singing as he sits on his bench, the hatter singing as he stands, The wood-cutter’s song, the ploughboy’s on his way in the morning, or at noon intermission or at sundown, The delicious singing of the mother, or of the young wife at work, or of the girl sewing or washing, Each singing what belongs to him or her and to none else, The day what belongs to the day—at night the party of young fellows, robust, friendly, Singing with open mouths their strong melodious songs.

Walt Whitman (1819 - 1892)

The lines in this poem are too long for the blog, but I think it reads well as a paragraph, too. Blessings on our dear country,