There is something very special about fireworks, always has been. We all know they signify a celebration or a party of some kind. The Dutch love them and quite frankly on New Years Eve they go completely over board, to the point where I could have burst into tears and the next "bang". They went from 10am -2am next morning, that day alone could have turned me against fireworks forever.
Sunday night though was Queens Day Night (eve), we found out about our local town center hosting a fireworks display to celebrate the eve of Queens Day.
A quick Metro ride later and we were surrounded by drum beats and party atmosphere. The display started at 10pm and for the next 10 minutes my 4 year old clung round my neck in sheer delight and awe. It was one of those moments that as he gets older are getting rarer. He is still little enough to be carried on my hip, which gave me the perfect view of the fireworks lighting up his face and sparkling in his eyes.
He hugged me tighter and tighter with each crescendo and couldn't help himself from shouting in my ear how pretty they were and asking how they went bang, we agreed on "magic" being the answer, it seemed wrong to explain their magnificence away with science.