The 4th of July in barn-land (meaning the small city where my barn resides) is always something quite intense. The most popular “holiday” by far for the area. The biggest tourist season. The little city gets very busy during that time.
It falls at the start of the monsoons. The sky is always on fire with electricity around that time. Riddled with lightning. The heat that had been building pressure finally lets loose and releases. Summer rain, cooling temperatures, magical evenings. The feeling somehow that something more should be happening.
The neighbors, no matter where you live, suddenly come alive with the sound of laughter. People over, visitors, family gatherings on the porch, barbecues. The rain finally touches down on the dry land and fire pits light up.
The normally quiet city, it stays up all night. The country bars enlivened with tourists and fun. Everyone reliving their youth. You…
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2 thoughts on “ghosts of the barn”
Such a beautiful tribute to this town!!!! ❤ Your writing is wonderful.
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Aw, thanks! I was re-visiting this time last year 🙂
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