Float...

Firework night has been and gone, the silence outside the night before last almost deafening - not a whiz or a bang, a crackle or a boom. Strange I’d almost got used to living with the soundtrack to a war film - and then all went quiet like a ceasefire.

Quiet - my turn now.

Going outside, in the not-quite-damp, we lit our sparklers, making shapes in the dark evening air. It was fun. Just a few cheap fireworks, enough to celebrate something I’d almost forgotten. Funny how those bits of wire, bending with the heat of the phosphorous, can bring a smile to your face.

We used to light Lucifer matches, one after another and straight from the box; different coloured flashes of light, hand-held till they burnt the end of our fingers. Rockets in pop bottles, penny bangers in bottles too (dangerous but spectacularly noisy), Catherine wheels, volcanoes, thrup'enny Roman candles .

Not this year though.

This year it was lanterns; four for three pounds, holding the thin paper carcase high in the air, lighting the burner and waiting for the hot air to fill the paper balloon. Wait and wait, a slight rise, then the gradual float up into the sky and away. I couldn’t take my eyes off it. Our own totally silent paper star floating high above as we three watched until it was gone, out of sight.

Up, up and away, all with our own thoughts and hopes floating in our heads.