Picture from time.com – A Brief History of Guy Fawkes
It was an especially intriguing celebration of fireworks at the Aykley Heads Police Headquarters in County Durham. The walk from my hostel to the site was about 15 minutes, and it would have to be the most enchanting 15 minutes walk of my life as fireworks ceaselessly shot through the skyline of the night, as if everyone had taken a number and were waiting for their turn to fire off.
I’ll have to admit that the fireworks were awe-inspiring, and I was soberly awe-struck. It was a different kind of fireworks from those that I’ve grown used to watching – each one of them were shot off one after another, such that we had the luxury of time to enjoy each of them to our purest pleasure; there were many different designs of fireworks which I’ve not seen before. My best one would have to be the one that kept spiralling like a mad cow in the sky, leaving a golden trail of dust before it exploded in flamboyant style.
Just an afterthought: fires can indeed be destructive, given its frequent associations with war and inferno. But once its beauty is uncovered, it can be worked into a masterpiece, notwithstanding or perhaps emphasized by its ephemeral life-span. I hope that my life would resemble that of a firework – dramatic and impactful – in this impermanent existence awarded to me by Mother Nature.