Cookham Fireworks – 1 November 2014

Dusk falls
Headlights lead us down a narrow, winding lane to a field
Shadowy figures directing the drivers
Cars lined up in serried ranks in the darkness
Electric lights, set up on a makeshift fence show the way
Past the table, lit by fluorescent light from above
Where willing volunteers check tickets

The night air heavy with the aroma of mulled wine
Canvas tents, lit from within
Hot dogs
Hot drinks
Hot soup
Small groups stand chatting in the blackness
Clasping their paper cups close
Waiting for the festivities to begin

People move over towards the bonfire
Restrained by metal barriers
Marvelling at the thirty foot sculpted pile of branches in the gloaming
Lit by moonlight

Paraffin fumes flood the nostrils
Scouts appear, laden with flaming torches which are thrust into the heap
The sound of crackling wood fills the air
Sparks rise aloft
Flames lick around the logs and the stack blazes
Crowds scatter, beaten back by smoke
Stalwarts linger, safe on the leeward side
Basking in the heat from the inferno
Relishing the golden glow

The fire slowly dies down
Beyond it, torches light the field
The first fireworks are lit
Rockets of myriad colours soar into the heavens
Exploding in a shower of coloured sparks
The night sky reverberates with explosions
On and on
Each one seemingly more impressive than the last
Eventually the finale is reached
The last rocket hurtles skywards
A deafening crescendo and the show is over
A spreading curtain of crackling light pierces the blackness, raining down
Gasps, replaced with applause

Slowly the masses disperse
Some to begin the long walk home
Others to wait patiently for the car park to clear
Each with their own memories
Of a night to remember

This entry was posted by philhbray.

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