sweet spice of pumpkin
lingering traces of earth
guard my garden gate

Halloween. I love Halloween. I loved it when I was a kid...I love it now.
We trick-or-treated for days (or so I remember???) passing on the information
on which houses gave the best candy (the winner was always the ten cent Bun
candy bars!). I remember having a witch costume for years..just rolling the
sleeves down each Halloween and wearing my plastic mask. I remember walking
the dark streets of Fort Wayne with my Dad lurking in the shadow of the trees.
Every once in a while we would turn around just to make sure he was still
there. He always was.

We had trick-or-treating here in my small town on Friday night. The weather
was ethereal with traces of swirling fog and mist as fine as gossamer. It
ended up being a community project as we all sat outside with the warm weather
chatting with one another between phantom visits. So, raising the goblet
high..here's to witches and ghosts and goblins and to parents who travel dark ebony
streets with little ones keeping the tradition well and alive.

ghostly autumn masks
impending darkness lurking
shhh! spectres watching

With Halloween, there comes an ending to a mass of storytelling shows. There
is a yin and yang to this....padding the bank account is a good thing...but
dreaming of caldron pots and Dracula leaves for sleepless nights as the winds
knock against the windows and shadows lurk next to my garden gate.

My favorite Halloween gig (shall I say) is here in my own town at the state
park. For three hours I share the stage with a friend and colleague, Steve
Etheridge. Last night was our yearly show (15 years running) with record
numbers. The first show for children sported 195 folks, the adult show had 270. We
were wall to wall folks. The atmosphere is always perfect and as the north
wind blew temps down into the forties, we were not disappointed. Our state
park, Pokagon, was built in the 30's and the show is out at the pavilion with a
roaring fire in the fireplace, luminaries and carved pumpkins the only lights. A
bat actually flew over my head in the first set. I wore black with my long
cape. There was popcorn and cider for all...and hours worth of stories, I
always stay until the last pumpkin is blown out and the embers have died down from
the fire..ah yes, the end of scary stories.

damp leaves of russet
gathering under my boots
tracts up my kitchen

During the past couple of weeks, the house at white picket gardens was host
to Philip. He joined me along with storytellers, Barbara McBride Smith and
David Novak and musical group from Ocracoke Island, Molasses Creek. We were all
part of the first annual (or so they hope) storytelling festival in Decatur,
Indiana. It was a wonderful festival with stories and music, dancing, sharing
on and off the stage. Folks drove and flew in from all corners of the US and
then back again.

Philip came early to enjoy Autumn...we spent evenings walking through drifts
of leaves..movies, cooking, conversation...a week in Autumn that I will always
remember. The day he left, darkness came earlier, my house was
quieter............

hazy Autumn smoke
twirling, spirals of sapphire
fill lonely gardens

Today is my Mom's birthday, I always envied her having a birthday on
Halloween...I know it wasn't always her favorite when we were kids...we let her share
in our goodies (hoping she wouldn't take the Bun candy bars). From the
stories my parents tell, they met on her birthday on a hayride. Sweet, new love.
My sisters and I will be sharing her birthday and Dad's next week, I'll tell
you about it in the next passage. Happy Birthday, Mom.

Karen is in Atlanta with her two babies, Jonah and Matthew. I will wait
until they get home to rake leaves so that Matthew can jump in them. I am missing them, safe journey home! Also, don't forget to vote on Tuesday!!

So, with the end of October, we begin to move into the darkness..towards
winter. Still so much to do...take out the screens, wrap up the hose, clean the
gutters, trim the bushes, rake the leaves, change the furnace filter....it all
can wait, as the sun brushes low across the last few colors of autumn, I'll
put on my new hiking boots and scuffle across town through the leaves of Autumn.

The poetry is my haiku as a tribute to the jeweled lady. Love to all,
Lou Ann

one last leaf to fall
making death patiently wait
oh, sweet October