Remember Remember...

Remember, remember the fifth of November
Gunpowder, treason and plot.
I see no reason, why gunpowder treason
Should ever be forgot.

It is only relatively recently that I have truly begun to appreciate the seasonal festivities we have, especially those that us Brits so religiously celebrate year after year. Last night, on what felt like an exceptionally cold November evening, my flatmate and a friend put on our gilets, jackets and wellingtons and stood in the local cricket field getting our footwear muddy and delighting at a beautiful firework display. Against the pitch black sky an array of glittering colours 'popped' and lit up the night. There is a collective 'ooooohh' when a particularly big or pretty firework sets off and the air smells of gunpowder mixed with hog roast and hot wine. The 5th of november has always been one of my favorite nights of the year shortly following Christmas eve its a bit of a shame the story behind it is quite gruesome! 

So technically this photograph was taken at new years but seeing as I wasn't in London this year for fireworks night this picture of the lovely Big Ben will have to suffice!

Winter is not my favorite season (we usually have it wet, drizzly and windy down south) but when it is dry and frosty so that the steam is visible as your breathe out into the cold air even I have to admit its not half bad. [By the way since I was about five I've been calling such events 'fire breathing dragon days' and it never gets old]. Late October signifies piles of orange and red leaves, cosy nights wrapped up near the fireplace with a mocha in hand or dark frosty evenings wearing thick coats, fairisle knit wear and playing with sparklers. Its times like these that I must remember to remind myself that the Great British Winter isn't half bad after all. 

With love,

xoxo