Oh, October
Last night ABC broadcast “It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown.” It’s an annual tribute, and a rarity — I mean, how many times do you see Peanuts cartoons on TV anymore? It’s a favorite of mine not only because it’s a Peanuts cartoon, but because it’s Halloween related and stirs my love of autumn. If you missed it, here’s the embedded YouTube video of the first few chapters (click on the links at the end to watch the rest).
Pumpkin patches, harvest sunsets, and general spookiness. October has a mysterious, almost sinister, quality. The Halloween theme — complete with full moons, ghosts, goblins (which don’t seem to be as popular as they once were), haunted houses, black cats, werewolves, and anything and everything that goes bump in the night — compliments the ominous feel. I suppose it’s only natural, too. It corresponds with the end of nature’s life cycle, when crops are ready for harvest, when trees and bushes shed their leaves, and when annuals wilt and die. April and May are birth months, when the flowers bloom and trees regrow their foliage. October and November are months of death and decay.
Ooh. Spooky.
I love October. I savor every second of it, yet it never lasts as long as the other months. Even though I immerse myself in its beauty and try to capture every last detail, it always slips away and I find myself waking up on November 1st, hung over from Halloween, thinking about the next meaningless, feelingless, 11 months before October arrives again. November isn’t bad. It has to be my second favorite month. Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday, and autumn is still in full swing. But October is it.
I don’t know why it appeals to me. It’s my birth month, the time when I came into the world and experienced life for the first time (more people are born in October than in any other month; seriously, what else is there to do in January?), so maybe that plays a little part. Maybe it's because I'm a Libra, craving a constant balance. In October the night and day are less than equal, but more so than during the summer and winter months. The temperatures even; it's not too hot, but it's not too cold. I get to wear sweatshirts, but can still put on my flip-flops.
The truth is I don't know why I love October so much, and I don't even care to know why. When it's not here, not the month on the calendar, I have it on my mind. There are those October moments, when the sun shines the right way, when night falls like ink and the street lights cast their pumpkin colored light on the sidewalks, when the wind nudges you with a devilish chill. My stomach turns and I yearn for it.
Goodbye, October. I'll miss you.
Pumpkin patches, harvest sunsets, and general spookiness. October has a mysterious, almost sinister, quality. The Halloween theme — complete with full moons, ghosts, goblins (which don’t seem to be as popular as they once were), haunted houses, black cats, werewolves, and anything and everything that goes bump in the night — compliments the ominous feel. I suppose it’s only natural, too. It corresponds with the end of nature’s life cycle, when crops are ready for harvest, when trees and bushes shed their leaves, and when annuals wilt and die. April and May are birth months, when the flowers bloom and trees regrow their foliage. October and November are months of death and decay.
Ooh. Spooky.
I love October. I savor every second of it, yet it never lasts as long as the other months. Even though I immerse myself in its beauty and try to capture every last detail, it always slips away and I find myself waking up on November 1st, hung over from Halloween, thinking about the next meaningless, feelingless, 11 months before October arrives again. November isn’t bad. It has to be my second favorite month. Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday, and autumn is still in full swing. But October is it.
I don’t know why it appeals to me. It’s my birth month, the time when I came into the world and experienced life for the first time (more people are born in October than in any other month; seriously, what else is there to do in January?), so maybe that plays a little part. Maybe it's because I'm a Libra, craving a constant balance. In October the night and day are less than equal, but more so than during the summer and winter months. The temperatures even; it's not too hot, but it's not too cold. I get to wear sweatshirts, but can still put on my flip-flops.
The truth is I don't know why I love October so much, and I don't even care to know why. When it's not here, not the month on the calendar, I have it on my mind. There are those October moments, when the sun shines the right way, when night falls like ink and the street lights cast their pumpkin colored light on the sidewalks, when the wind nudges you with a devilish chill. My stomach turns and I yearn for it.
Goodbye, October. I'll miss you.
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