The grounds of the National Stadium turned into the capital of boom, flash, and patiently waiting in line for a sausage. Thousands of people showed up with a simple plan: watch the fireworks show and go home with memories full of color. After a few minutes, however, it turned out that food prices and the number of people simultaneously trying to take the perfect photo of the sky would be equally lasting memories. Before the spectacle started, there was a picnic atmosphere and an endless search for the best spot with a view. In the end, the best view was effectively blocked anyway by phones raised high above people’s heads.

When dusk fell, the real spectacle began. The sky lit up with all the colors of the rainbow. Every subsequent boom effectively reminded the local residents that window panes can rattle to the rhythm of pyrotechnics. The audience watched the successive sequences of blasts with awe. The more ambitious photographers tried to capture the moment in photos, although most of the results looked more like light painting experiments than professional photography.

After the show ended, the second, equally spectacular part of the evening began—the great migration towards the parking lots, bus stops, and bridges. The crowd moved with the grace of a flock of penguins. The participants’ patience was put to the test almost as effectively as their hearing during the final volley. One thing was certain—that evening, Warsaw shone exceptionally bright. For a few hours, the grounds of the National Stadium became the most colorful place in the country. The roar of the fireworks remained a topic of conversations, memories, and comparisons with every subsequent pyrotechnic show for a long time.