It was all very dark to Jonas. Once his eyes adjusted to the lack of light, though, his very heart was filled with pleasureness at the sight before him. There was that love in the air again, but not as strong, overshadowed by something else, no less pleasant; happiness. And joy. Children were laughing and running across the grass while waving little sticks with birght balls of sparks at the end. Adults were also laughing, and talking, then men cooking on a strange stove.
As Jonas watched, several men brought out strange objects he simply could not idenitfy. Everyone stood back, and one man, a fatherly type with goodnatured excitement in his eyes, produced a flame from the end of a small wooden stick, different than that of the children's.
All at once, there was a loud, piercing whistle, and something bright shot into the sky, disappeared, and exploded in a beautiful combination of sparks in varying colors. Though Jonas enjoyed the sight, a bit of fear trickled into him. These colors were undoubtedly a form of fire, and he was concerned by the ease with which the people handled them. Soon, however, he realized that the people were very used to it, as if they did it annually, and thus, safe. The joy and happiness felt before now swelled around Jonas as he watched the unknown celebration with a smile.