Rosy red cheeks, cold to touch and so endearing to admire. His eyes light up with
amazement, excitement, wonder. A memory is being formed tonight; one that will be
remembered for years to come. Tonight is the night of the Craigavon firework display; young
children mesh against their parents, wrapped up to keep warm, face paint melting off and a
packet of sweets in hand to keep them quiet. With my younger cousin Cian attached to my
side, the nostalgia hits me with such poignant softness. Bursts of colour fill the sky, green
and oranges and pinks. The old croon of ‘ghostbusters’ fills my ears and I’m taken back to
the days of my youth. Days of simplicity and excitement, days of innocent and pure unfiltered
joy. Days I still miss, days I wonder if I enjoyed it enough while it lasted.
This yearly event is one that is considered a holy holiday in our community. This year the
fireworks display falls on the night of Halloween, the crowd is filled with an array of
costumes; witches, princesses, dinosaurs and clowns to name a few. Children squeal, some
in their sugar-induced excitement and some in fear of the men on stilts walking around.
Parents sigh at the sight of the vans and staff filled with an abundance of sweets and fizzy
drinks. And yet when the countdown begins, the music silences and the booming of the
show begins, all eyes are drawn to the sky. Looking above at the wonder of the fireworks,
the beauty and ingenuity of this creation. We are a community together, no matter our
backgrounds we connect through this season. And every year it repeats itself, every year we
herd together, inching closer for warmth, to bear witness to this simple magic. The colours
reflect onto the waters of the Craigavon lakes, if I look far enough over the railing my own
face is visible. The same eyes, the same lips, the same ears of the young girl who first
experienced this years ago. Although I don’t have the same smears of eyeliner across my
eyes and I’m missing my Minnie Mouse ears, I still see myself, who I’ve always been. What
a time of year this is, to allow us to avert back into our younger selves, to experience the
innocence of Halloween and the irrational fear of ghosts from all the spooky stories.
Cians arm wraps around my neck, he squeezes softly to get my attention, “How do they do
that?”, his gentle voice asks. “It’s magic” I reply, raising my eyebrows and swaying him. His
giddy laugh rings melodiously in my ears, “I love Halloween!”. After a strenuous evening of
trick-or-treating and an even more gruelling fight to get to the front railing, we’re happy.
Craigavon Lakes is a sanctuary tonight, a hub of community and a source of happiness.
