Wednesday, 5 November 2008
I took this pic from the balcony of The White Hart Hotel, Lewes, on Bonfire Night, a couple of years ago. The town closes completely, and is taken over by torchlit processions. It is joyous, raucous, colourful and fun. But there is a real undercurrent. It is not just Guy Fawkes being remembered on this Fifth of November, but also the burning of seventeen Protestant martyrs.
The air is charged. Chinese firecrackers blast and crack, shaking the glass in the law court windows. The crowds are ten deep on the pavements. During some processions, they yell and shout, throwing coins into buckets carried by costumed collectors of gifts for whichever charity is nominated that year. Other processions, the crowd is silent, and the torches and burning crosses pass in silence apart from a band playing the Dead March.
Back to the pic. I was just snapping away, as some kids waved sparklers in the crowd opposite the hotel.
It wasn't until I put the pics on the computer, I saw the squiggles spell C G quite clearly. With end stops.
My husband's initials.