I love fireworks.
There I have said it.
So there we were 5 of November glee… not the best pictures in the world, but my camera has a fireworks button and I was so determined to use it.
I know all the arguments against them: pets are terrified, no-one can sleep, you may as well burn money, they are so noisy, they are dangerous, they are a fire hazard… blah boring blah…
I love them. I love the pretty site of them, I love the smell of them, I love the crackle of them, I love the pop. I love the excitement of waiting for it to be dark enough for them. I love them.
They remind me of staying up late when when I was a kid: and a whole trail of fireworks round the garden Catherine Wheels pinned to the fence, rockets planted in buried Coke bottles, showers of pretty lights on a dark night and ending off with sparklers each their own and wild zig-zaging and writing special words in the night sky. And trying to be up first the next morning to find the spent ones and keep them as treasures. Yup, I really do love fireworks.
I am not alone… it’s genetic.
So, as a special gift, my artist sister gave us a couple of fireworks for Christmas. You know, some giant sparklers and a couple of rockets. We saved them for New Year. Oh we had big plans for a games evening and feasting and fireworks.
And one magnificent beast: you lit it and it went gentle pop, and wait a second gentle pop , and wait a second gentle pop and wait a second gentle pop.
Well as we lit it – not even one gentle pop had popped and a police van drew up to the front gate – in a nation where there is a distinct lack of police presence… apparently we were disturbing the peace – on New Year’s Eve. On New Year’s Eve, when the whole mountainside is rocking with a bazillion rowdy parties! Now disturbing the peace is taking se7en kids for a swim every afternoon and the associated shrieks of joy, disturbing the peace is when a friend gives your 10 year old a vuvuzela for their birthday. Disturbing the peace is not lighting a gently popping firework that hasn’t yet got into full steam.
Well, all the while there is a discussion at the gate between the father person and said police officers… the magnificent beast continued to ever so gently pop, like a sweet little kettle gurgling away – only quieter.
gentle pop, gentle pop, gentle pop…
Needless to say gentle pop, gentle pop, gentle pop our peace was shattered! The very law-abiding, honest and wouldn’t dream of committing a crime father person sent everyone to bed and sat on the couch staring into space for a number of hours in horror at the crime we had committed – disturbing the peace.
Needless to say our fireworks days are over. We can watch from our rock as they pop on the beach, we can draw them in the driveway – but we will never ever light one again and the 5 November, not to mention New Year will from now on be some what subdued.