Beware of the Pelagic Tern

My wife tells me that I only like Christmas because it is time off work and looking back at how my feelings towards the festive season have changed over the years she may be right. I do however, like the light and sound of the physical season around Christmas, the same sort of ambience that would have accompanied this time of year since before it was linked with Christianity. I also like the religious ambience of carols and some of the simpler secular aspects. What I really do not like is this year’s trend for spiritless adverts which seem to have dispensed with the last vestige of Christmas spirit once and for all. The big chains' spectacular commercials for television seem to be nothing more than CGI-heavy, Hollywood blockbusters; there seems to be a real lack of colour as if the deep reds and blistering whites of Christmases remembered are embarrassing to the oh-so-trendy, pastel-obsessed executives responsible. Compare Jamie Oliver in his current Dickens-fest with the (admittedly twee) Yellow-Pages advert from way back – you know the one – tall girl, short boy, mistletoe. Just not the same now is it?

I used to love Christmas when I lived out in the wilds of Worcestershire – the view from our window was like the live-action, introducing shot before the start of the Snowman, with a sort of long-distance silence – not traffic – just the sound of all possible noises bouncing around the valley until they made up a sort of sonic version of the echo left over from the big bang. I’d get a book as a present and could sit in the window as the day darkened in a sort of exquisite balance between the comfort and gentle sounds of the house and the excitement and silence that surrounded it. My dad will complain that I never made any indication that I did like living there but being away makes me miss it so much more. My parents do not live in the country any more so Christmas visits do not have that rural delight though the place is just a-few-minutes drive away.