Fireworks. Fireworks. Fireworks...
They can be pretty polarising.
You either love them or hate them. They're spectacular and exciting, or a massive waste of time and effort.
I've generally, apart from a very few occassions, fallen into the latter camp. Until tonight.
Tonight, I kind of "got" it, I was touched, not by the fireworks themselves, they were for the most part pretty average, but by the experience.
Now I know, some people just like the actual fireworks, and I'm not about to knock them for that, but for me, they facilitated the feelings that gripped me this evening.
Looking around the field, people watching, if you will, it struck me. A sense of togetherness. Not as a crowd, but small clusters of people, even as small as a couple.
I was there with the midgets, the name I use to refer to my two children, surrounded by people in their own groups of various numbers, and suddenly I noticed.
It's about that shared experience, being out in the cold night air, wrapped up as best you can against the elements. Sometimes catching the look on someone's face illuminated for that second in the the flare of the firework. When it's the face of the person who you've chosen to share this with, it can be magical. There was a face I was hoping to see tonight, but didn't.
I guess there's always next year...
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