Wrapping Up October

Yesterday was unseasonably warm for the next to last day of October. By mid-afternoon, the temperature was in the high 80s. Warren and I ate supper outside on the deck for what surely will be the last time of 2009, marveling at the t-shirt weather.

I have been getting into, through, and over a cold for the last two weeks, and still find myself tired and dragging by the evening. Last night was no exception. The unseasonable warmth held into the evening, so much so that it was cooler inside than outside. Mid-evening, with Warren's encouragement, I went back outside to the deck to "warm up."

What a revelation.

Our deck is on the east side of the house. The sky was heavily but not completely overcast, with the clouds moving at a good clip from south to north. The moon, almost but not quite full, was rising, tangling itself in the upper branches of the walnut tree. It was often obscured, but then, foreshadowed by the brightening torn edges of clouds, would startlingly reappear.

How long did I sit out there, watching the clouds scud past the moon? 10 minutes? 20 minutes? I don't know. I was lost in the light show. I had forgotten how brilliantly white the moon can be, how many ranges of colors there can be in the depths of the clouds.

Our yard was quiet, with only one or two laconic crickets chirping. But the cars and trucks on the highway a quarter mile away carried on the wind last night. A busy night, apparently. The wind was rising along with the moon, and I could hear a distant train whistle, probably from the tracks near my parents' house, on the edge of the wind's rushing.

How long has it been since I sat and…just sat? Apparently way too long because when I finally came inside, I felt centered and still.

Tonight is Beggar's Night and I am excited! For the last two years, we have always been out of town at a rehearsal. For two more years before that, I lived on a quiet side street which lacked sidewalks, so I saw no more than one or two trick-or-treaters. So this will be my first Halloween at home on a truly residential street in a long time.

I know what some of the children will be. Bobby and Meg, two doors down, will show up respectively as Harry Potter and a princess (Cinderella?). I know that because I was downtown yesterday afternoon, heard my name shouted, and saw them across the street with their dad, Meg waving furiously to make sure I saw her in all her glory. Katie and Nicholas, if they make it over this far from their house - three plus blocks being an enormous distance when you are very young - will be an unmatched set too. Nicholas is Batman tonight while Katie will be gliding around town dressed in a sari (her request). My friend Patricia's daughter Molly will be zooming by sometime as Tinkerbell.

I am looking forward to the faces and the costumes and the excitement. When my children were little, I was often the one who stayed and handed out candy, exclaiming as neighborhood children and school classmates trooped up the steps and held out their bags. The youngest ones would shout "Do you know me?," firmly believing that a swirl of glitter or pirate rags rendered them incognito. The teenagers would grin sheepishly, especially since I usually made them perform to get candy. ("Come on, you're 15 and out trick-or-treating? You gotta earn this candy!")

Those are my boys (no surprise) in the photo on a long-ago Halloween. Sam is 3+, Ben is in 2nd grade. Sam as a young child was terrified of people in costumes - from Mickey Mouse to monsters - and was none too comfortable wearing one himself. Halloween was a troubling holiday for him; he had to balance his fear of costumes against the lure of candy. You can tell from the way he is holding his hands that he was already troubled about the prospect.

Ben, on the other hand, loved dressing up. His first Halloween venture resulted in his saying, after the third house, "no thank you, I have enough candy," but wanting to continue going from door to door just for the fun of it. After Ben got the "as much candy as your sack will hold" part down, he often based his costume upon his favorite books. That's Gandalf the White there. For the record, I made the entire costume, including the hat, which was no small feat given my lack of sewing skills. It rained that Halloween; that ground length cloak swept up several gallons of water before a very soggy Gandalf returned home that night.

I get a special treat myself this ghostly holiday. Sam flies out of Portland late tonight and I pick him up at Port Columbus in the morning. He has already lined up an apartment, he starts looking for work this week, and my wandering boy is home again for…who knows? Welcome back, Sam.