Mid-Summer Nights (7.30.24)
One enchanted evening.
I spent most of my formative years in Singapore, one degree (85 miles) north of the equator. There, the sun sets at seven all year round, plus or minus twenty minutes. At university in England, I was amazed that the sun still shone at 9pm, even as we studied for finals in May.
Long days are the best. A favorite memory is from France. It was July 14, Bastille Day, nearly a decade ago. We were in Annecy – towards the southeast, near the Swiss border. In the evening, crowds gathered near Lake Annecy to enjoy the celebratory fireworks. I think we might have been one of only three Asian families in the whole district – but everyone was polite, and my passable French garnered a smile. The kids appreciated the opportunity to stay up past their bedtime and to participate in the revelry.
Of course, a long day means a long wait for the sun to set before fireworks can begin. Fortunately, the weather was kind, and we had found a comfortable spot on a grassy field, not far from the water’s edge. On the other side of the lake, evening lights betrayed a sister crowd, divided by water, united in anticipation. The kids were patient, but eventually boredom set in. I entertained them with jokes and teasing, and recalling the day’s events. Still – as many parents know – there are limits. Desperate, I resorted to counting backwards. When I’m done with the count, I said, the fireworks will begin. They were just young enough (to be gullible enough). So I started, carefully enunciating each word to stretch one second into four. Who ever said there are sixty seconds in a minute? Sometimes there are two hundred. Or more.
As I counted, I caught glimpses from the parents around me – natives and tourists alike. Despite my English, they caught on. Ahh…the old counting backwards trick – even the Chinese dude knows it. Such universal wisdoms transcend space, time and culture. And so they politely and graciously followed along, smiling and gently nodding as I reversed my way into an explanation I had not quite fully formulated.
Single digits arrived. My mind raced. My smile tightened. Okay FIIIVE. What’s after FIVE – yes FOUUURRRR. The moment of truth approached. Heaven help – such anticipation on their faces! THREEE. As I mouthed TWOOOO, Florence’s eyes widened, betraying her impending glee and inevitable schadenfreude at my approaching denouement (big words badge: earned). So what else could I do, but go all in? With the biggest, bravest, boldest pronouncement I could manage:
“ONE!”
The surrounding crowd turned away to spare my embarrassment.
And then, a pop from the water line.
A single gracious spark, heaven on a flaming stick, arced effortlessly skyward, before slowing, pausing, and then exploding into the now darkened night sky, flashes of gold skittering towards the surface of the lake under brightening stars.
A dozen or more sets of eyes turned towards me, mouths agape.
“Dad, how did you know?”
“Dad, how *could* you know?”
It’s not often that parents get to add to their mythology.
I like long summer nights. Would you share a memory of one with me?
- j
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Thanks for sharing your parenting story from the early years. It is good to hear a dad's endearing story on parenting. Dad's enjoy parenting too!! BTW, you are gonna get the award for big words. No worries though, Google makes it easy to follow, lol!