Tuesday 11 June 2013
After the bonfire, when we were on our way home with children exhausted from fun I commented to Hugh that I feel like I'm always happy when there is a bonfire.
I'm writing this wearing the cardigan that I was wearing when I took these photos and it smells deliciously smokey. I love it. Feeding a fire, with a drink in hand, watching the daylight fade and the glow of the fire grow. It slows life down, some of my best friendships have been cemented around a bonfire.
Our friends are clearing an area of land at the back of their current garden which they are buying from a neighbour, so there was plenty of fuel to feed the fire. There is a wildness about this little area in the middle of all the other gardens which felt very un-London-like.
The old swing was uncovered first, Coco insisted it must be a metal tree due to the huge honeysuckle on top.
And food carried out from the kitchen and eaten beside the fire tasted so good.
Our garden was also once a neglected patch, overgrown with brambles and full of junk and our afternoon reminded me of all the days we spent clearing and planning. But that is another story.