Thursday, November 2
That Luscious, Spooky Feeling
I adore Halloween. Always have. And maybe it's part of the innate mystery of the holiday itself that I have never been able to figure out exactly why. Counter-intuitively, the costumes and the candy weren't what hooked me, although we all know I'd never turn my back on either one. But drama and sugar aren't it this time.
As a kid, I spent all year long writing stories about that single spooky night when the moon swelled and the night below got darker and thicker, trying to recapture the deliciously eerie feeling, the whatever-it-was that intrigued me so much about that one spookalicious night out of 365.
To this day, when night falls on Halloween, I light jack-o-lanterns with relish and search the darkened streets for the tell-tale bobbing lights of trick-or-treaters. I love the caramelized smell of burning pumpkin, the rustling swirl of leaves (or maybe unseen witches) upswept on hidden breaths of chill autumn air, the noise from down the street that just might turn out to be a werewolf...or something more sinister.
Maybe that's all I need to know, anyway. That Halloween scents the air was the unfamiliar, the unexpected, the unknown. While every other night out of the year falls gently and with a familiar softness, Halloween comes along and shakes you up a little, nudges you into winter with a little bit of a wicked laugh, a naughty grin.
Keep alert, don't get too cozy there by the fire. You never know what might be lurking in the darkness beyond the flames.