My hubby Mark and I had enjoyed one last day down on the sandy beach, taking a couple of quick dunks in the mediterranean and then strolled back along the promenade, looking once more for souvenirs from the south of France.
We stopped at Spar, the small convenience store where we found ourselves shopping every day for sunscreen and shampoo, beach mats and beer. We picked up one more package of the sesame seed biscuits we'd grown incredibly fond of over the last few days for the road. My husband had his little chat with the pretty young blonde cashier who complimented him on his French. Really his language skills hadn't progressed much beyond bonjour and merci but she was sweet to notice his pronunciation had drastically improved. She always made us feel welcome and as though she were as happy to see us as we were here.
After dinner we took a stroll and the day turned dark. As if it was timed with the precision of a church bell, a loud explosion crackled in the air.
We turned just in time to see the sky light up. We ran across the street to the beach where other vacationers had begun to gather too. I was afraid I'd miss the show before I could get my phone out of my bag but I got lucky and caught quite a bit of it.
Unplanned. No thinking about where to park and whether it would be too crowded to find a place to see the fireworks. They came to us, awesome and wow-worthy. On that note I wish you the same this Fourth of July! Stay safe, be happy and enjoy the feu d'artifices.