Fireworks

Fireworks night has always been a special occasion for Nigel and I. Forty  years ago we spent it apart. At that point, Nigel and I were good friends but he was considering whether to ask me out or not. 

The reason for his hesitation, he told me later, was that he had a conviction that if he asked me out, he would someday marry me. 

Having missed the municipal display at Cambridge that year, we vowed not to miss one again. 

In our forty years together we have been to some spectaculars at Saltburn Park, the Tyne Bridge and Verulamium Park. We love to oooh and aaah.

A memorable one was Dove Holes in Derbyshire where the amateur pyrotechnician decided to set off the fireworks one at a time leading to a display that was very long indeed but at no point spectacular. We left before the end.

This year, we shunned our usual display at Verulamium to attend Alexandra Palace with Perran, Carenza and friends. 

How did it go? Carenza felt there had been a lack of communal oohs and aaahs.

However, the fireworks coordinated brilliantly with the music.   And at the end their was a man dancing on a podium with lightning coming out of his head. 

But even that was not as special as the fact that I spent the evening with Nigel.

A Year On

Looking back at my blogs from a year ago, it brings back vividly the weirdness of distancing from people I was used to hugging, the panicky feeling of being on holiday in Lille at the point where it was locking down.  

However, I also remember a sense of relief at life becoming less frantic.  Travelling to work and to see relations ground to a halt.   There was suddenly time to address calming domestic tasks in the  house and garden.  There was tinkering with pot plants and with baking recipes.  There were leisurely with neighbours across a two-meter gulf.

My photos show a backdrop of dazzling blue skies behind frothy blossoms, the delight I took in each new spring flower – celandines, violets, wood anemones. And so many long walks as the spring evenings lengthened.

What is clear, however, is we never guessed Lockdowns would continue so long.  There was the sense that the first Lockdown was a little oasis in everyday life.  I remember teaching into the Easter holidays because I thought it would mean fewer lessons in the summer term when everything would be back to normal.

I also worked through a list of long-postponed projects, rushing to finish them before everyday life resumed.

But Lockdown has been a marathon, not the sprint I first envisaged.  If I could send a message back to myself in Spring 2020, I’d say ‘Slow down – You’ll have plenty of time at home!’