Today is Halloween.
Memories pick at my heart of pumpkin carving, hoodies and twead jackets, walks through the Commons to get Starbucks after my last class, eating pumpkin pie at Pumkin Fest; I could keep going. In the waning light, looking out over the glassy Charles River is almost religious. Boston practically invented the Halloween season. Shadows remain of the Colonial era. Witch hunts, the ghosts of Beacon Hill, trick-r-treating with John Kerry. OK, maybe not that last one.
I mean, Fall in the Northeast is all about indulging the senses; Taking the time to breath deep and feel the cold air permeate your body, smelling the cinnamon, hazelnut and nutmegs, staring at trees burning in the afternoon light, waiting for night to fall and hearing the sounds of children creeping around every nook and cranny for candy.
I woke up today to a different kind of Halloween. It was cooler, the temperatures resting in the mid-60's. I couldn't seem to pull myself out from under my comforter. I poured myself a glass of water and looked out my kitchen window to see the ground stained with moisture. It had rained in the early hours of the day. That might not sound incredible, but in a place where rain comes as much as an earthquake in Boston, it is pretty incredible.
As I drove to work with the windows down, the air felt different than normal. The sky was completely overcast, clouds billowing over and around each other - literally mountain ranges in the sky above me. The light was so soft and and unimposing, it reminded me of home. As I turned the corner and entered the maze of the industrial park where my office hides, the sun began to pour through the clouds. This filter was incredible - I actually gasped audibly in my car. Suddenly, these grotesque, over-designed warehouses were beautiful. Every architectural feature became prominent and logical. A hole opened in the thick layer of clouds and the sun illuminated the entire park.
I finally stepped inside and arrived at my station. A spiderweb meticulously crafted between my screen and speakers. Today is definitely Halloween, and while it's not the same Halloween I'm used to, there's something of its own that strikes me. I never basked in the glow of Halloween festivities, so it's curious that today, I miss home more than I have since coming to Los Angeles.
Nothing is the same today. Nothing can replace Halloween in New England. Nevertheless, this little spiderweb did put a smile on my face.
1 Thoughts:
Fall in Southern California is a far cry from the Falls of New England that I grew up with. A season typically associated with brisk dusk air, hot apple cider and howl of cool winds do not bite the ears or nip at the nose. No, LA has a very different reaction to encroaching Fall.
Today is Halloween.
Memories pick at my heart of pumpkin carving, hoodies and twead jackets, walks through the Commons to get Starbucks after my last class, eating pumpkin pie at Pumkin Fest; I could keep going. In the waning light, looking out over the glassy Charles River is almost religious. Boston practically invented the Halloween season. Shadows remain of the Colonial era. Witch hunts, the ghosts of Beacon Hill, trick-r-treating with John Kerry. OK, maybe not that last one.
I mean, Fall in the Northeast is all about indulging the senses; Taking the time to breath deep and feel the cold air permeate your body, smelling the cinnamon, hazelnut and nutmegs, staring at trees burning in the afternoon light, waiting for night to fall and hearing the sounds of children creeping around every nook and cranny for candy.
I woke up today to a different kind of Halloween. It was cooler, the temperatures resting in the mid-60's. I couldn't seem to pull myself out from under my comforter. I poured myself a glass of water and looked out my kitchen window to see the ground stained with moisture. It had rained in the early hours of the day. That might not sound incredible, but in a place where rain comes as much as an earthquake in Boston, it is pretty incredible.
As I drove to work with the windows down, the air felt different than normal. The sky was completely overcast, clouds billowing over and around each other - literally mountain ranges in the sky above me. The light was so soft and and unimposing, it reminded me of home. As I turned the corner and entered the maze of the industrial park where my office hides, the sun began to pour through the clouds. This filter was incredible - I actually gasped audibly in my car. Suddenly, these grotesque, over-designed warehouses were beautiful. Every architectural feature became prominent and logical. A hole opened in the thick layer of clouds and the sun illuminated the entire park.
I finally stepped inside and arrived at my station. A spiderweb meticulously crafted between my screen and speakers. Today is definitely Halloween, and while it's not the same Halloween I'm used to, there's something of its own that strikes me. I never basked in the glow of Halloween festivities, so it's curious that today, I miss home more than I have since coming to Los Angeles.
Nothing is the same today. Nothing can replace Halloween in New England. Nevertheless, this little spiderweb did put a smile on my face.
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