Fireworks always look a little unreal when they bloom against the night — too bright, too temporary, too dramatic to feel accidental. In the photo, sparks explode into wide arcs of gold and pink, drifting like slow-moving embers before falling back into darkness. The smoke glows red, lit from below as if the sky itself remembers fire, not just celebration. Somewhere beneath those sparks, silhouettes of architecture cut into shadow — a church spire, a roofline — calm and still while the night shakes with light and sound.