When I tell people that I love autumn, October, and Halloween, they usually nod and smile. It makes sense to them, I guess. You know. The guy who writes horror and watches scary movies all the time. Of course he loves October and Halloween.
And I’m content letting them think there’s nothing more to it. Because really, how can I explain it?
September 23rd has come and gone, and I celebrated the autumnal equinox in my own way. But now it’s 12:46 AM, and we’ve passed over the threshold into October. And already–on this wonderfully rainy, dark, and lonely night–I hear the melodic whistle of wind through fall leaves. I smell October coming through my open windows. I feel the cool breeze and melancholy longing that goes hand in hand with this time of year.
What I do when I hear these sounds and smell these smells is I breath deeply of the night and let its magic in. Because whatever magic October holds, it’s no doubt sepia toned and burned around the edges.
A magic that carries the wailing wind a little further, and hopefully, to receptive ears.
Happy October, my friends. Don’t waste it.