It's an evening for dress-up play for kids of all ages, as they say. Fog blew in in the late afternoon, making everything clammy, close and cold. But just after sunset, while there was still an afterglow in the west, the fog retreated and the full moon rising in the east illuminated almost leafless maples and oaks with shriveling leaves that rattled in the night breeze that suddenly sprang up.
The party at a rented lodge we went to was held outside. Flaming torches, propane heaters, fire pits and barbecue grills held the autumn chill at bay, except for swirling waves of icy air that suddenly skittered across the flagstones and strolling paths.
The first part of the evening was for the kids, with children's games and children's dinner and snacks. Everyone was very active and laughter was everywhere. After a couple of hours the little ones grew tired and we bundled them off to sleepy town with a bedtime story, a prayer and a good-night kiss.
The adult wind-up to the party involved sipping hot rum or hard cider punch, quiet conversations in front of crackling fires, listening to owls hooting and one honking rush of a flock late migrating geese dropping down to the marsh below the hill.
Walking alone down a path away from the light and loungers of the patio, the night and nature became more real than the man-made world. Susurrous stirrings made me suddenly turn and peer backward into the darkness, only to turn back at the sound of rustling ahead. Dead leaves fled before the wind that cold-fingered up my dress. Moon shadows were opaque dark and imagination suggested they could conceal lurking monsters. The path ended at a pond dappled by moonlight and tree shadows. Childhood memories of stories of Axxea, the so-called water panther, a cross between a mountain lion and a rattlesnake, who preyed on lone late-night travelers, suddenly seemed real as I looked from the brightness of the full moon to the blackness of the earth. A coyote howled in the distance followed by another closer, then by one that seemed almost right next to me. I suddenly thought of my cat and hoped she was safely home and curled in her little bed. I wanted to see her. I wanted to see if my little boys and little girl were sleeping safely in their strange beds. I walked as fast as I could back up the path, wishing I had a sweater, once tripping over a tree root and almost falling.
I wanted Halloween to be over. I wanted to be home.
