|I want these and I don't even have a lawn!|
Besides, it's THAT time of the year, and I'm feeling witchy.
Not that I'm a part time witch or anything, but as the nights lengthen and become cooler, the colors become vibrantly alive, my mood shifts and.....you're probably already familiar with the feeling yourself, or you wouldn't be reading this blog in the first place. ( Yeah, I'm looking at YOU. Yes, you know who you are. The one pretending not to like those Gummy Mummies candies. Or that nifty witch's hat that you know is only part of a costume, except the silly purple silk flowers and all that fluffy netting is strangely attractive.)
At the first sign of orange and black at WalMart, Andy Williams singing " It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year" echoes in my head. I go window shopping just to see the kitschy witchy stuff because it makes me feel good and makes me happy. Damned if I know why. Maybe it reminds me of my childhood or something. I've dragged out the storage totes and have begun to distribute my Halloween collection around the apartment with the precision of a curator mounting an exhibit. My Ancestor Altar will go up last-I'm still designing it in my head. I'm making a black satin altar cloth and would love to fringe the edges with beads, but finances being what they are presently, that will be a future project. The Ferryman has been busy this year: there are three new photos to add to the ones I normally use. While I'm sad these individuals are no longer in this life, I'm filled with hope that they have crossed the Veil and dwell in a place of wholeness and peace because I know they will be there to greet me when my time comes to stand on the edge of the precipice and take that first unsure step into the next life. Until then, I will continue to celebrate their crossing by honoring their memory.
Living in the mountains again is a wondrous adventure. I surprise myself sometimes at what I learned when I was living part-time out West in the Rockies. Being here in Appalachia in such a remote place is sometimes a trial when we are totally cut off from the rest of the world by snow and ice. I begin to stock up on food and necessities well before the weather turns and the leaves fall because living here requires a certain amount of forethought and preparation. It's just a part of existing in this part of the country, and I'm still amazed and a little smug when some of my neighbors-who have lived here far longer than I-are taken by surprise by Nature's little forced time-outs and left without. Perhaps it's because I've acquired the needed skills from years of Scouting, or because my chosen spiritual path has put me in closer understand to the way nature works, but I view the required effort as nothing more than the change of the seasons-it's just what you do. Despite the economy being depressed, there is always plenty of food available. You may want for other things, but there is always something to put on the table: it may not be exactly what I want, but I will not starve. The roof I have over my head is once again my own (thank Hestia,Vesta and St. Jude!) For now, in this place it is bittersweetly enough. For Today, I'm content to watch the leaves fall and be grateful for another chance to see Autumn's splendor. Tomorrow, I will get serious and get back on track with writing for others...but Today...This day is mine.