Something old: Twinkling Christmas Lights

The soft twinkling Christmas Lights were hardly visible through the late evening fog over the Thames, "this is the London town I love" I thought but spoke aloud to myself. You could feel the dry crisp cold air, misty and mysterious fog, combined with such unusual quietness of the Embankment , hardly any traffic. The Christmas holiday evenings were here for certain. This river Thames can be truly magical sometimes. It allows London to suddenly change to a friendly and personal kind of city, it becomes poetic, distancing itself from the normal harsh, busy and loud place that it is. It lowers its guards and lets you see into its naked soul.

Through the half-open car window I could still hear the cassette player, it is playing one of my favourite Tangos, "I wish I'd be dancing this now". Quietly and consciously I thought and spoke these to myself this time. How I wished it so, I smiled at the delicious but the impossible thought and continued enjoying the music and the scenery.

"The Wheel" did not belong there, the empty cabins of the wheel -London Eye - could be seen through the mist. It looked so out of place that late evening. The loud and annoying tourists who made stupid remarks at anything they paused by at the Tate gallery earlier today were now all gone. The only tourists were those who were mesmerised by the site of the huge and beautiful Palace of Westminster engulfed by the fog. With its spectacular architecture regally it belonged there. The fog felt at ease as it stroked the palace's walls and windows, the union between the palace, the fog, and the river is an old one. They are the old three friends who have spent so many evenings like this one in each other's company, everything else is now long gone.

Not very often but every now and then, through the fog, some couples leaning against each other pass by, they appear and disappear again after. All it takes is a few steps. "A few steps" is the magic itself. They huddled up close, walking slowly and speaking in whispers allowing me to enjoy the melodies of Astor's Tangos even more. Other individuals walk fast and briskly in a rush to get to their loved ones, quicker, earlier. There is someone as impatient and eager waiting there to receive them I am wishing.

I walked closer and leaned over the barriers, the river surface usually mirrors the lights from the surrounding buildings beautifully. The river adds its own silver and gold shimmering interpretation of any rays it is offered, then sends them back with some humbling generosity. The reflections are always deeper and made up with more colourful dancing lights. A true gift.

Tonight the river is in entertaining a close old friend: the fog. So the river's special light show is been taken off its stage to welcome the fog home.

Whilst leaning against an embankment bench I can't help thinking that "like any good Tango; some parts of our life need an obvious ending, a closure, a marking". Something that assures us there is no more to be done. I can't stop these going through my mind, another year is gone. This makes me feel both sad and relieved at the same time. The old heartaches and old cross roads are finally over and behind. The page has turned and the story goes on, another chapter has reached the end and a new one has therefore now begun.

I am fearful but certain of foolishly welcoming new heartaches and confusions, again and again! The affairs of our hearts are so much part of our existence that it is unfair to label them "predictable or weak". It is a signature that we love to share, give and receive and without these it feels wrong to live.

For now though, a closure is needed, short enough to say good-bye but long enough to choose the tender memories that are to be treasured.

It is a trifle colder now so I wrap the coat and my scarf a little tighter round me, still there is a noticeable shiver on my lips, it is not the cold that make my lips tremble but the taste of those tender and sweet moments that are now gone!

It is almost midnight, the Big Ben is about to strike, I get back into the car and as I slowly drive away I turn the volume up, I need the Tango to go on.

I promise myself "next year I shall dance this tango with the one whom I love".