Penn's Woods

We drove the three hundred some miles across Pennsylvania in the middle of the night last night. The first several hours were spent looking out each window in the car to catch fireworks from all directions, above farms and small towns and baseball fields. The last several hours were spent watching a huge rust-orange half moon rise above the horizon and continuing lifting, shrinking, whitening as we went. And there were lightning bugs lighting the way above the turnpike, too. Something about it all provided for a rare moment where I was particularly grateful to live in this state, in this country.