Fall
Halloween more than anything is the time of year when I can harken back to feelings and emotions of being a kid. There had always been a magical sensation that time of year. From my youngest memories I recall the excitement of seeing the leaves change and the need to pull out jackets and sweatshirts as the days shortened and turned grey.
I've never felt the sense of loss so many seem to at the passing of summer. Indeed, I find fall and its offerings to be incredibly rich and diverse. If only changing leaf colors stood out as a child. I now see how diverse the ecosystem becomes as the seasons lurch towards the inevitable winter. So many beautiful flowers mature in the fall. The colorful harvest of gourds. beyond just the pumpkin. The old cornstalks withering away that can be bundled and strapped to porch posts. And the wild fury of shaggy squirrels going mad for the Indian corn still husked on the stalks.
As an adult I still adore walking through dark neighborhoods at night, looking for jack-o-lanterns in house windows. Or, even in the city now, the occasional house or many houses on any random block decked out in cobwebs, coffins and corpses. I feel comforted by the night. The chill air subduing the madness of summer. I put together playlists on my iPod of varying scary movie scores and feel a thrill with the start of each tune as leaves crunch under foot.
I am still a kid when fall rolls around. I may notice more but I've never lost my joy for the season. Even when we became too old for trick-or-treating we still were intent on staying outside late on Halloween. Running around in the dark, telling scary stories trying to freak each other out. I recall one year in particular we took the pumpkins from Ex-roommate's porch and bowled them up and down the street.
In younger years I recall putting the old cassette player in the cracked front window playing a tape of haunted house sounds while waiting for trick-or-treaters. The fake cobwebs on the porch, long-hanging, having been stretched by the wind and scattered with crusty leaves. Sometimes there were ghosts made from old sheets with heavy chains on their necks. Fake tombstones. Even a coffin once that was sadly stolen before the 31st had even rolled around. That was a sad year.
Back even farther my joy was as simple as my mother pulling from the hall closet a black garbage bag that contained within all the paper Halloween cutouts we would hang in the front windows. Giant black cat and owl, jack-o-lanterns, witches... all sorts of classic shapes so readily available in the Seventies. Images that warp me back to childhood at the mere sight now. I would come home from school on that day overwhelmed with excitement as I would arrange the cut-outs on the floor and decide exactly where each item needed to be taped in the window. It was a delicate task and I did it to perfection every time.
Whether the season itself holds some kind of magic and allure or it is my own memories that make me cherish the time, I cannot say. I just know that I adore its arrival and have found as the years pass more than just a few simple memories as reason to love this time. Even after Halloween passes I look forward to time with family (and days off of work) as the other holidays approach. Even as I may not agree with the reasons behind why we celebrate them.
I'd intended to write this morning to talk about an old boarded up house we used to scare each other about as kids. Funny how things never got close to broaching that topic. My fondness for this time of year simply took me over.
I've never felt the sense of loss so many seem to at the passing of summer. Indeed, I find fall and its offerings to be incredibly rich and diverse. If only changing leaf colors stood out as a child. I now see how diverse the ecosystem becomes as the seasons lurch towards the inevitable winter. So many beautiful flowers mature in the fall. The colorful harvest of gourds. beyond just the pumpkin. The old cornstalks withering away that can be bundled and strapped to porch posts. And the wild fury of shaggy squirrels going mad for the Indian corn still husked on the stalks.
As an adult I still adore walking through dark neighborhoods at night, looking for jack-o-lanterns in house windows. Or, even in the city now, the occasional house or many houses on any random block decked out in cobwebs, coffins and corpses. I feel comforted by the night. The chill air subduing the madness of summer. I put together playlists on my iPod of varying scary movie scores and feel a thrill with the start of each tune as leaves crunch under foot.
I am still a kid when fall rolls around. I may notice more but I've never lost my joy for the season. Even when we became too old for trick-or-treating we still were intent on staying outside late on Halloween. Running around in the dark, telling scary stories trying to freak each other out. I recall one year in particular we took the pumpkins from Ex-roommate's porch and bowled them up and down the street.
In younger years I recall putting the old cassette player in the cracked front window playing a tape of haunted house sounds while waiting for trick-or-treaters. The fake cobwebs on the porch, long-hanging, having been stretched by the wind and scattered with crusty leaves. Sometimes there were ghosts made from old sheets with heavy chains on their necks. Fake tombstones. Even a coffin once that was sadly stolen before the 31st had even rolled around. That was a sad year.
Back even farther my joy was as simple as my mother pulling from the hall closet a black garbage bag that contained within all the paper Halloween cutouts we would hang in the front windows. Giant black cat and owl, jack-o-lanterns, witches... all sorts of classic shapes so readily available in the Seventies. Images that warp me back to childhood at the mere sight now. I would come home from school on that day overwhelmed with excitement as I would arrange the cut-outs on the floor and decide exactly where each item needed to be taped in the window. It was a delicate task and I did it to perfection every time.
Whether the season itself holds some kind of magic and allure or it is my own memories that make me cherish the time, I cannot say. I just know that I adore its arrival and have found as the years pass more than just a few simple memories as reason to love this time. Even after Halloween passes I look forward to time with family (and days off of work) as the other holidays approach. Even as I may not agree with the reasons behind why we celebrate them.
I'd intended to write this morning to talk about an old boarded up house we used to scare each other about as kids. Funny how things never got close to broaching that topic. My fondness for this time of year simply took me over.