DECEMBER 18 2014
“There were... seven days till Christmas and my footsies said to me: let’s go see a Christmas tree. Or twenty.”
WONDERS OF THE SEASON:
My barely-contained excitement as I watched the creation of the Christmas Market on Princes Street, five weeks before the big event. And not a moment too soon, I thought!
Choirs decked out in red robes, and singing 'Good King Wenceslas' by the National Gallery.
Hot apple toddies.
Hot beverages of any kind, for that matter.
The first bout of snow:
it came upon an evening cold,
those glorious stars unfurled.
From angels bending near the earth,
To blanket it with pearls.
The decorations, and oh! those twinkling lights, and ribbons, and all those windows bedecked with tokens of the season.
The wonderful assortments of sweet meats, candies, lollies, cakes, mince pies and puddings on the shelves of the supermarket. All winking at me.
The days getting shorter, with night descending at 3:30 pm, one cannot help but dream of firesides, books, and pints at a warm pub.
The wonderful revelries throughout the city, and not least of all, that now-bustling market on the Princes Street where it is possible to buy a crepe and wander around inspecting wooden spoons all evening while being serenaded by all manner of Christmassy songs. AKA heaven on earth.
All those moments spent with friends, they become even more frequent around this time of year. You may find me of an evening at the library or at the pub, talking with my peers.
