For those of you who do not know I am British, well Scottish technically, but I am British. If anyone reading this is, who is not British, then you may not know about bonfire night, and to many of you, like it does to my American friends, it might seem a bit strange.
Bonfire night, is the night were as a nation we remember the plot, carried out by Guy Fawkes were he attempted blow up the houses of parliament in 1605, however he failed, as he discovered just before midnight on the 4th of November. We have bonfires where people burn scarecrows which signify Guy Fawkes, but most commonly we have fireworks.
In this blog I want to talk about the fact that:
I love fireworks!
I always have. I know this sounds strange, but when ever I think of fireworks, I never think of any sad situations. When I think of memories of times where I have watched fireworks, I only remember happy times. I remember going round to family friends houses on bonfire night and watching the lights, and hearing the bangs of the fire works surrounded by people I love. I remember walking along the beach with my friends, hiding alcohol from our parents (because we may have been a year or two too young to drink haha). I remember my first 4th of July in America, and being amazed by the red, white and blue fire work displays, put on to celebrate their independence. I remember spelling my name with sparklers, quickly before they run out, trying, and failing to capture it on camera.
Its very rare that you ever hear fire works used in an negative similarity. People say that when they kiss someone they care about, they feel fire works. When people celebrate a big occasion there is fireworks, and the happiest place on earth, Disney world uses fireworks in its displays every night.
Today I just really wanted to write about how much I love fireworks, and how even though in the UK they are used in what some consider a weird celebration they never fail to bring me joy, and that is something to remember.
Love
Emma xx
E's Journey 