"There is a child in every one of us
who is still a trick-or-treater
looking for a brightly-lit front porch."
Robert Brault
rbrault.blogspot.com
With fond memories of Halloween, my mind spans across years of my own trick-or-treating, as well as the years of my children and grandchildren. Although I no longer participate, Halloween continues to offer a sense of anticipation.
If the day is cold and strewn with streams of rain, I am genuinely disappointed for children everywhere. Even if it is reasonably cold, I shudder for the little ones dressed as ballerinas, faeries, or sprites, unable to hide heavier clothing beneath costumes.
As the day turns to night and curfews are long passed, my mind wanders to images of children patiently waiting for their parents to paw through the safety check of treats. Evening entertainment offers creepy haunted houses or movies to traumatize. (Not to overlook the art of toilet papering trees and houses of unsuspecting friends and neighbors.)
Just like any other fall evening, I settle in front of my fireplace, blank journal in hand accompanied by a big bowl of hot buttered popcorn. As I stare into the growing fire, visions coil one after the other. Bright images burst into fleeting flames, but the emotions remain, haunting me in the darkness.
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