I think of all the months, with all their charms, and I think of October first. The twilight is most beautiful, with its washes of blue and gray. And the orange of pumpkins becomes delightful. October is not about a carnival of colors, brash and gaudy, but a play of shadows and firelight. Mystery and magic sadly seem lost in the Octobers of the modern world, though they are the essence of its spirit. It’s what the child in your heart desires.
And if Halloween is to be anything, let it be mysterious, with a bit of witchery, and spooks, and dark shadows across the moon. Let there be magic in the air, and gentle goosebumps on your skin.
‘Till next time.