wee hour thoughtful in morning wee hour thoughtful in morning wee

i will be old one day, and there won't be those many thrills left to seek. i hope that i remember then, that i once had a winter, with orange lights coming through wide and tall windows, with red buses showing through foliage in the middle distance, with fireworks rising above what i know is the row of houses next to the river; all of this sitting up in bed, hugging the covers, feeling blessed in the bit of black sky i can see from between the dull pinkish reflective undersurface of cumulus clouds. a thrilling winter.
i am rather pathetically drawn to the christmas theme these days. the city is well in the midst of its capitalistic celebration, with lights on trees and tinsel in every shop window. i enjoy the shared spirit of celebration. i say pathetic because christmas actually never meant anything to me, as a festival, or even as a holiday. my annual milestone used to be Durga Puja. Somehow i am now an assimilated alien in london town, and i bought starbucks' mini mince pies.