|sent from: London, UK. destination: Ockham, Surrey|
We hid in the grass, beside the tree, hoping the leaves obscured the view of the soldiers, whose massive cannons was pointed directly at us. When it fired, it was as though a giant hand was pressed roughly on our chest for the briefest moment, following only miliseconds later by the CRACK that tore the air inside-out. It was the annual Beating Retreat, performed in Horse Guard’s Parade. We saw the red-suited soldiers and heard the brass band, so we got as close as we could to watch. Little did we know we were next to where the fireworks were let off, and in the path of the ritual cannon fire. To the climax of the 1812 Overture, the fireworks soared searing our eyes as the parade ground filled with musket smoke and the hum-drum-drum of the brass and drums.