Bonfire night was always one of the highlights of my year when I was a child. First there were the preparations, 'chumping' for wood, making a guy, careful hoarding of pocket money in order to buy favourite fireworks. (I always bought several 'snowflakes' and kept some for the winter to light under the trees in the orchard when there was a snowfall.) Bonfire night was never an anti-climax, even the catherine wheels that refused to spin were fun because you had to come up close and poke them back into action with a stick. Big brother and his pals had a great time terrifying everyone with their bangers and jumping crackers, Mom made toffee and we cooked jacket potatoes in the bonfire ash. It was excitement and pleasure from beginning to end.
This year we arrived in St Ives on November 5th. Just enough time to settle into the apartment then walk through town to check on arrangements for the evening firework display that takes place on Porthminster Beach.
The moon shone on the sea
and not even the brightest fireworks could outshine it.
Although they tried!
We sat on a bench above the beach
and had a great view of all the action.
This year there was no toffee stuck in my teeth, there was no burnt tongue, no grubby face and clothes, no damaged gloves, no smell of woodsmoke - but I had a lovely time!