The night sky has been full of fireworks these past few days and there definitely seems an air of pent-up celebration, turning our backs on the pandemic and revelling in the outdoors which has begun to be chilly rather late this year – leaves beginning to fall but a lot still green. Those frosts are needed to rebalance gardens and fragile natural seasons. We have been standing whooping over rockets and Catherine wheels and scribbling our names in the still night air in sparklers.
All great fun and reminds me of our childhood home in Trottiscliffe, Kent, famed for the annual bonfire party with Pinkle’s charred sausages, baked potatoes, chestnuts and learning that bitter shandy was better with lemonade than cheap cider…
Nicola Werner
