We love fireworks. But cats hate fireworks, so we're half-inclined to skip the festivities to keep ours company. We don't like crowds so won't be picnicking by the Charles tonight with hundreds of thousands of other people and the Pops. We walked along the Esplanade last night and saw the security measures getting their finishing touches to protect everyone. Storrow Drive, the main traffic artery through our neighborhood that runs along the river, was closed. Some entry points for walkers and bikers on the Esplanade itself were already barricaded, and various police teams (city, state, park) were already patrolling. The National Guard was out, too, in full camouflage gear, looking ready for anything (and very overdressed) on a warm summer evening.
That was enough excitement for us. We'll resume our sunset strolls in a day or two, after everything goes back to normal.
We were invited to a party on a private roof deck on Beacon Street tonight. It's just two blocks from us, with stunning views of the fireworks and much of Boston... so we might go, and then race home afterward to draw everyone out of hiding with treats and soothing conversation.
I tried explaining about fireworks today in advance, hoping it would keep everyone calm. Not much fazes Toffee, who has a scientific mind. He'll be fine. Lion and Wendy have already picked their hiding places (I'm not supposed to tell). Possum is trying to act cool but he hates the noise, too. In past years, he's always been wild-eyed and glad to see us when we get home, skulking around low to the floor with his fur ruffled up, so we know it's an ordeal for him.
And Harris is... well, just look at him:
He can't believe the fireworks are going to happen again after he hated them so much last year. All I could tell him was that the world might revolve around him most of the time, but not tonight.
Maybe I'll stay home.