It's amazing in a way what gets put into a poem - chestnut vendors - well, it actually happened and seemed part of the ambiance that evoked that moment - what the critics call verisimilitude.

The second aspect is how the experience resonates afterwards...kind of like Wordsworth musing about oft when on his couch he'd lie in vacant or in pensive mood as scenes from memory flashed upon his inner eye that is the bliss of solitude, lol.

And finally, to wear out a familiar refrain of mine - as we get lder we get honester, and that's something too.

Have a good day, my friend.