One of those sublime evenings. When the breeze doesn't feel one way or the other on your skin: neither warm nor cool, just perfect.

We're at the floating docks in the middle of the harbor, a new experience for us. Usually we are just off the channel on a mooring with the tide rushing past, seemingly at "hull speed." As we entered the harbor and hailed the harbormaster, he informed us that they could not accommodate us. When I mentioned we have been here several times before, he allowed there may be room for us on the rafts floating in the harbor. (I reminded him that his boat and Calypso had been bunkies last winter at Great Cove.)

Meggie thought she was in heaven as she promptly hopped off and trotted to the end of the dock, thinking she was going ashore unescorted. Oops, that's water there.

Several families had brought their runabouts to the floating dock. Eight children amused themselves all afternoon with fishing, dinghy rides and hot dogs and chips, while the adults hung out on the folding chairs and coolers. A couple of the boys were getting dinghy driving lessons, earnestly hoping for the first solo.

On the town pier, other families were casting for whatever, or trying to snag crabs with bits of chicken on a string. A house ashore was having their pre-fireworks cocktail party with laughter and conversation burbling out over the water interspersed with an occasional rocket. A real hometown 4th.

And we have a front row seat for the fireworks beginning momentarily from the beach across the harbor. The only thing missing is the Boston Pops!