Bonfire Night
Remember remember the fifth of November.
Gunpowder Treason and plot.
Karrie posted yesterday about being in love with Sweden. I am in love with England, and have been since I first landed there when I was 18. I did a course for six weeks and then traveled alone for three. Somewhere in the Cotswolds, I happened upon a craft fair and while wandering through, I stopped and watched a woman spinning. I asked her a little bit about what she was doing and she asked me what I was doing in England and I told her I was travelling around -- and then I blurted out in my loneliness and happiness --- that I had never felt more at home ever before in my whole life. She stopped spinning and looked at me and said "Maybe that's because this is your soul's home."
For me, the smell of burning leaves on a late autumn days will always be once of the quintessential smells of England. Ed is away for a few days, and I do miss him. But tonight, the rhyme of Guy Fawkes echoes in my head and I remember the bonfires I've been to and I can almost smell that musty, warm, fiery smell and I miss England too, perhaps even a little bit more. After all, I will see Ed again on Tuesday, and I don't know when I'm going home.
NaNoWriMo thought for the day: NahNohWreeMoh? NahNoWryMoo? NahNuWrihMo? NanuNahuComeInZaphod.
Gunpowder Treason and plot.
Karrie posted yesterday about being in love with Sweden. I am in love with England, and have been since I first landed there when I was 18. I did a course for six weeks and then traveled alone for three. Somewhere in the Cotswolds, I happened upon a craft fair and while wandering through, I stopped and watched a woman spinning. I asked her a little bit about what she was doing and she asked me what I was doing in England and I told her I was travelling around -- and then I blurted out in my loneliness and happiness --- that I had never felt more at home ever before in my whole life. She stopped spinning and looked at me and said "Maybe that's because this is your soul's home."
For me, the smell of burning leaves on a late autumn days will always be once of the quintessential smells of England. Ed is away for a few days, and I do miss him. But tonight, the rhyme of Guy Fawkes echoes in my head and I remember the bonfires I've been to and I can almost smell that musty, warm, fiery smell and I miss England too, perhaps even a little bit more. After all, I will see Ed again on Tuesday, and I don't know when I'm going home.
NaNoWriMo thought for the day: NahNohWreeMoh? NahNoWryMoo? NahNuWrihMo? NanuNahuComeInZaphod.
posted by Francesca Amendolia at 16:57
12 Comments:
Is there any character more charismatic and likeable in spite of himself than Zaphod Beeblebrox?
I think my soul lives in the James River in Richmond. I miss that place so desperately. Even more than my friends, I miss there.
Funny, I always felt like at least a piece of me was at home in England too - wandering around the Lake District, I felt some of those same things. And how can you not love the nation that gave birth to Douglas Adams?
'course there's the other part of me, the one that, for better or for worse, is inextricably linked to America. I hate that sometimes.
Hey, when you do go- can I come too?
I miss England too, but mostly I miss my best friend who lives there! Like you, I have no idea when I will get to return. Sad. Autumn always makes me nostalgic for a lot of things in my past, must be the crispness in the air.
I hope someday to travel enough to know where my soul's home is.
Berlin has been the closest I've come to a soul-home so far. Amazing to me how unique the feeling is, falling in love with a place, coming home to a city you've never known. It's something I never believed in until I felt it.
And I've always said it NahNoWryMo. Or I would if I actually had an opportunity to say it out loud.
Naa-Noe-Wrie-Mo.. isn't it?
I lived in England for a while a couple of years ago and I LOVED IT! Loved loved loved. My husband is in a field where he may be able to work there at some time. I would like that time to be now. LOVED IT!
A lack of money has meant I've only been able to visit a few countries. A few years ago I decided as world travel was out of the question I bought some decent camping gear and started exploring the UK really well.
Sometime it's been just me and blokey, many times there's been a group of friends. These adventures have been some of the happiest and most peaceful times.
I love this country and couldn't imagine living anywhere else.
For when you come back home again, I highly recommend the Peak District, Anglesey, and the Scilly Isles.
Not just bonfires, but fireworks, and that 'smoky' smell that you can smell the next day... (or the next week, as bonfire night seems to be lasting longer and longer). Autumn is lovely.
For I see no reason,
Why Gunpowder and Treason
Should ever be forgot!
I had an argument the other day with a French friend. She was complaining about the fact that we were celebrating the burning at the stake of a catholic prisoner of conscience. As Blackadder said, "Cold is God's way of telling us to burn more catholics". But, hey, your Thanksgiving is pretty strange too. Isn't it about giving thanks to the Indians who helped the settlers through the first winter? Does history record whether the Indians regretted it all a decade later?
The leaves still haven't fallen. All gold and brown and damp. The nights are chilly, though, and have drawn in. I'll teach my boys conkers this winter.
England is my soul's home too. I was born there and lived the first 14 years of my life there. I ache for it around this time of year. Bonfire night was always a favourite.
Your writing does something to me. I wish I could explain it.
You just gave me chills. I am a complete Anglophile... and I've never been there. I have a burning, burning desire to go, however. Only I'm afraid I might not want to leave.
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