The fourth of July down on the farm was a day unlike any other. My Grandfather managed to allow work to be suspended for a day and upon sunset the back yard had turned into a paradise and a spectacle of young brothers, sisters and cousins running around with sparklers lighting up the night. Through the falling light I would stare off into the cornfields swaying in the evening breeze to catch glimpses of the ghosts which I knew were out there. I imagined how they’d gently come closer to the edge of the yard to see the sparkling lights in the hands of the children. There was sadness there but it was far succumb by the beauty of the night wind and playful sounds filling the air. Even in the dark the grass was green beneath our bare feet; And the warm ground held comfort and serenity for us in those long lasting moments of childhood. It was blissful in every sense of the word. Even the grown-ups seemed happy and carefree. After all, what is the definition of a holiday if not the allowance to escape from your worries, if only for a short while. So many times have I longed to retrieve that feeling again. Time is an odd companion. But the holiday remains. Happy 4th of July.