Image from here (because apparently I have no photos of fireworks or sparklers)
Fire frightens me. And I have hypersensitivity, so loud noises like fireworks and I don't mix. Fifth of November has always been either a hit or a miss for me. Usually it's a miss. When I was little, I adored sparklers. I loved the way they glittered like a magic wand, and you could write your name in the air; pen made of fire, sparks, and heat. As I got older I'd watch from inside as my dad and younger brother would light fireworks. My dad would stand away, and my brothers face would be alight with the colours splashing the night sky.
Most years, I forget it's Bonfire Night. It's not this global holiday that trends on twitter. It's the UK only, and even then we don't make a big deal of it. It's an ironically quiet celebration, with the sounds of explosives crackling in the air. The smell of smoke perfuming wet clothes drying on the washing line.
I forget it exists, but it's still there.
I do the same with The Highest Cloud. So much of my attention is poured into Lost in a Library and passing my A Levels that sometimes I forget about this little blog that I worked for a solid month designing. All the posts are in the draft section, ready to be seen by the world. But I never hit the post button, forgetting this is all real.
Next Tuesday it will be 3 years since I first started blogging at Lost in a Library, and I feel like my style, and my passion towards blogging has been boosted, refreshed, improved upon. I want to be able to manage my time between these two creative outlets well, but first, I need to remember that this exists. That you exist. That maybe you are reading this.
For now, I'm just going to remember that it's Bonfire Night, and perhaps hold a sparkler or two.
