Contentment

Our Fourth of July ended happily.
With the purpose of securing a spot to view the fireworks, we took a picnic atop the hills of Portland to the Pittock Mansion and camped out on our blanket for the evening.
We dined on crackers with cheese and hummus, and raspberries with chocolate as the view of our beautiful city was unfurled before us.
The Pants said our meal looked like it should be accompanied by a fine wine, but I thought it paired nicely with virgin Diet Coke too.
The grounds of the mansion were quiet and serene.
The peace was only interrupted by the occasional lighting and cracking of "pop its" and "snakes."
And by a toe-headed little boy asking us if we knew why they were making so much noise.
In response to our honest wonder, he said "well, because it's to let you know that the fireworks are coming soon...o.k?"
Right, of course...Thanks for the warning.
And then he was off to the next camp to explain the situation.
We took turns touring the grounds with the camera, as the other held down the blanket fort.
While I toured, The Pants made friends with our neighbor who's camera was set up, ready to catch the imminent spectacle.
I returned to find them discussing law school, the "tree business" and his recent move from Salem.
The Pants and I compared our photos and picked our favorites.
As the night neared ten o'clock, our friends arrived just in the nick of time.
Their BYU blanket cozied in next to our BYU-Idaho blanket as gold, green and red shimmered in the distance.
First came the fireworks from PGE park. "A nice prelude," we thought, to the coming show at the waterfront.
We all waited, eyes fixed on the Willamette waiting for the big event.
We could hear the distant "pop" and "whir" of the fireworks, but we couldn't see them.
The view was blocked by a giant building, parked right in front of the explosive-launching barge.
The crowd tried to remain hopeful.
"Maybe the finale will fly higher than the tower." "The barge might float further down the river," we said.
But soon it was obvious that we would only catch remnants of light exploding from the side of the building.
Our neighbor packed up his camera and left.
The rest of the crowd was abuzz with lively chatter, making the best of the situation.
As the chatter died and everyone left, we talked with our friends for another hour or so before making a stop at the Korean taco bus and purchasing a loaf of bread for the Sacrament at church the next morning.
As we drove the few blocks home I was perfectly content.
Content to be living in a time of plenty, both in spirit and in stuff.
Content to be surrounded by people that respect each other and differing perspectives.
Content to freely worship at a church that feels like home.
Content to be an educated woman.
And content to live in a country that is truly blessed and watched over.
God Bless America, land that I love.

Our Photos

His Favorite:

My Favorite: