By now i think you have noticed how much i like Halloween. It is the holiday i look forward to almost as much as Christmas....and some years more than Christmas. The spookyness of Halloween here in the piney wood is thick with the dark ,quiet nights, save for the occasional owl hoot or the rustling 0t a wild turkey or deer walking thru the still standing cornstalks. 
There are the soft breezes that rattled the dry leaves the dry leaves hanging tightly from tree branches. Swirling gusts of wind that send the fallen leaves racing across the yard, stirring crisp, dry swirling leaves into a frenzy that i think is the definitive sound of late October.
Stealthy but far from silent creatures who walked along the edges of the creek as they foraged for something extra to eat before the long winter's sleep began, become more bold.
The days growing ever shorter, i would bring my paper bags from the A&P to a friends house, along with crayons scraps of cloth, images cut from advertisments about Halloween. Patiently covered with each one with omages witches, Owls, spooky trees, whatever we could think of to decorate them for "Tricks and Treats". Some nights we didn't make it home before darkness fell, so deeply engrossed in decorating our paper bags with images fit Trick or Treating . Fog especially near the creek was both scary and beautiful. It came from the ponds near the the swamp, and floated like specters, past our eyes and in our dreams.
With the lengthening nights carved pumpkins t guarded many front doors. Some houses had one, and some many. Each lantern had a a candle was and still is surprising to me how much lite spilled from the faces each one of those faces carved into each orange lantern.
When it wa my turn to blow out candle for that night i must admit that i looked over my shoulder, and around the corners of the house.
Reasoning that one never knew what might be haunting the darkness, after all the cemetary was nearby.
Pumpkins were carefully selected and brought into the house to ripen quickly before carving. It was always fun to scrape out the seeds in their orange octopus looking clumps, and sticky and slimy feeling clumps, the next day we separated the seeds, some to plant next year and some to roast and eat . Walking thru the vines and pumpkin patch looking for the perfect pumpkin to make into your own Jack-O-Lantern was an honor. It seemed that way to me. Only certain pumpkins were destined to be come Jack-O-Lanterns.Reasoning that one never knew what might be haunting the darkness, after all the cemetary was nearby.
Some pumpkins were for pies , and others were feed to the cows.
We would load out old truck with pumpkins and may-be some corn stocks if there were any nice ones left and a couple bails of hay. An even greater right of passage was riding into town with my Dad and a load of pretty pumpkins into town on an October Saturday and selling them to folks who didn't have gardens.
Our truck was never piled that high with pumpkins, not for fear they would fall off, but because we would get a ticket, at least i think that was the reason.
Our truck was never piled that high with pumpkins, not for fear they would fall off, but because we would get a ticket, at least i think that was the reason.
I considered myself more than lucky to have my own pumpkins to carve, and in my heart i loved the misshapen ones best, as you never knew how they would turn out until you light the candle and set them out in the dark night for everyone who passed by our house to enjoy.
thank you to all of the people who took all of these cool pictures!!!
