Big shows
K. J. HASCALL / Hungry Horse News
Utter glee.
That is how I describe my sister Kait's attitude toward the Fourth of July. It's her favorite holiday for two reasons. First, her birthday is July 11. She appreciates the proximity of important dates 'similarly, my birthday is about a week before Thanksgiving). Secondly, she enjoys fire and explosives. Kait slyly tosses popping packs of explosive powder under unwary feet and hoards packs of fireworks. Our little pyromaniac.
We spent part of the Fourth this year with friends on Foothill Road west of Kalispell. Even though getting to work Monday morning was a drag, we stayed out, launching the loud, sparkling, gunpowder confetti high into the sky until past 11 p.m. It was one heck of a big show.
The thunderous booms and cracks above our heads and in all directions reminded me of the massive thunderstorms that roll across the Nebraska plains. Those storms are unequaled. Stark, astonishing power in the form of sky-filling clouds the color of midnight. All noise hushes and all creatures hunker down with the same anxious feeling that retreat is impossible. Lightning arcs and jolts for hours. The thunder is so loud car alarms go off, buildings shake and pets huddle fearfully under the bed.
Pelting rain and hail was replaced with dazzling technicolor motes and my sister's delighted laughter. The rest of us present shared appreciative 'oohs' and 'ahhs.'
There was one frightening moment, however. One of the "practically professional-grade" artillery shells exploded on the ground instead of high above our heads. Suddenly the air was filled with green and yellow fire like frenzied fireflies. We shrieked and howled with laughter at our surprise.
The second great show this week was watching the Big Top erected in the vacant lot behind Super 1 Foods in Columbia Falls. The Culpepper & Merriweather Circus of Hugo, Okla. came to town for one night only. As something a little different, I wanted to experience the magic of the circus in its daily genesis.
David 'Stilts' Volponi, 23-year veteran of the circus, played tour guide. He cooed lovingly at sibling tigers Solomon and Delilah and at Francis the black-maned lion. We chatted for a bit with Paulina Dykes, 14, who is a third-generation circus performer and one of eight kids with the show. She's been unicycling since age 5. Her older sister learned to unicycle before learning to ride a bicycle.
"It's an exciting lifestyle," Paulina reports. "You're in a new place every time you wake up. You meet new people every day."
Traveling 12,000 miles each year would wear on me, personally. So would having only five days off in the more than 200 days of circus season. But the 30-person traveling Culpepper circus family seems to manage just fine breezing through a different town every day.
And what a sight it was to watch the Big Top rise into the bluebird skies Tuesday morning. The 16-year-old blue-and-white striped tent has been through hail and snow storms, yet still holds the promise of the circus, an American tradition. Light streamed down through hundreds of tiny holes like stars.
A tiger roared. Ponies nickered. Circus employees called to each other as they went about their tasks to prepare for the coming evening shows.
What a wonderful window into a world so unlike my own.