Life: It's A Team Sport.
This blog is all over the place. As I am. As Life is. A hearty and healthy mix of the original and the reblogged.
A light sputtered off in the field and a bluetailed rocket went skittering towards Canis Major. High above their upturned faces it burst, sprays of lit glycerin flaring across the night, trailing down the sky in loosely falling ribbons of hot spectra soon burnt to naught. Another went up, a long whishing sound, fishtailing aloft. In the bloom of its opening you could see like its shadow the image of the rocket gone before, the puff of black smoke and ashen trails arcing out and down like a huge and dark medusa squatting in the sky.
Fireworks have never been more justly described.
