The Great Pumpkin will rise over the decorative patch in our neighbor the Cookie Lady’s yard tonight. He will cast a glow over all the sweet little children running house to house to collect more candy than they ever will eat.
He’ll give the jack o-lantern nod to his fellow pumpkins that stand sentry on front porches this time of year, and pause, as he does annually, to ponder whatever Molly has carved. This year she decided to carve a cactus, which didn’t go quite as smoothly as she had anticipated.
Situated as it is on the edge of a large city park and decorated naturally with creaky tree branches and wandering cats, our street hosts Halloween easily. Fall leaves whisper from the ground and porch lights blink a cheerful welcome in the air. We trick or treat old school here in our little corner of the world, on Halloween and mostly at night.
Until she discovered it was illegally long, one of our neighbors answered the door on Halloween with her son’s boa constrictor wrapped around her shoulders, a charming tradition that combined herpetology lessons with spooky theatricality.
We’re prepared for the chilliness forecast for tonight. Midwestern trick or treaters sport clever costumes that fit over their thick coats and warm boots. I used to enjoy escorting my own little human crayons and Big Birds around the neighborhood on Halloween, nodding to other parental escorts and pocketing extra peanut butter cups to sustain me en route.
Happy Halloween, from Molly and Me (and God bless everyone recovering from Hurricane Sandy).