Remember, remember

Fireworks night. Sparklers, Catherine wheels, bonfires and... rain. As is the case almost every year, my November the 5th was again marred by the most British of elements. To be fair, the rain was kind enough to delay its arrival until after the displays had commenced, but with my frizz-prone hair, that is more than enough to make the whole occasion a miserable one.

And while it is tempting to put up with the inevitable soaked duffle coat and muddy wellies to enjoy a glorious display of colours and patterns in the night sky, this year I decided to admire the multi-coloured splendour from the comfort of my (warm and dry) sofa. Luckily for me, I live in a neighbourhood where each household appears to be in direct competition with the next to produce the most over-the-top, grandiose display possible from a semi-detached back garden, allowing myself to enjoy the bonfire night experience without the frost-bitten hands, soggy coat and smoke-scented hair.

Of course, being a distant spectator has its downside. I missed the atmosphere circulating around the audience as they wait with anticipation for the main event to commence, and the distinct yet enticing scent of gunpowder in the air. And so I hope next year the weather will be more forgiving, so that I can slip on my mittens, grab a sparkler, and fully appreciate the fireworks spectacular.