My son Colin sent me this, with the remark, “kinda beautiful to watch it.” Well yeah, I think cynically, finally a good use for this latest fiendish product of human imagination.

So I started to watch it. And I did want to think, well, yeah, “kinda beautiful.” Except that I was immediately transported back to that stunning, awful Spring Equinox night in March, 2003, when they televised the initial Shock and Awe light show over and inside Bagdad.

My husband had died not even two months earlier, I was living in a brand new town, all alone, with no one to talk to about this horrible thing that the U.S. was doing in ginning up, under false pretenses, with full “embedded” journalist approval, yet another war, against yet another defenseless country, and meanwhile, televising it as if it were just another light show.

So yes, PTSD, for me; mild, but real. Which reminds me, I read the other day that some combat veterans have this reaction to July 4th fireworks displays.

Are we surprised?

Is there a way for humans to learn to enjoy fireworks without having to kill people and destroy the Earth?

And BTW: puppy Shadow will never get used to the popping and whistling noises, never, ever. Pressing his body close to mine in bed, head, up, ears alert, terrified. For hours. We don’t look forward to nighttime the rest of this weekend.