Good Day, Young Lovers. Welcome home.

 

You have managed to survive another summer clinging to this pretty rock, bearing humid reaches and back to school’s. And you will be rewarded. High Five (clap!).

 

Here. Take it. It’s your E Ticket to Bliss. Autumn in New England is yours.

 

It is art in motion, an ever changing mural of the best hotel art you ever seen. See the ever rocking boats in dusk’s harbor. Taste the apples in the air, the brown sugar memories of Hallloween past.

 

This is what you get for living here. This is your per diem of pleasure before the bill of Winter comes due.

 

I was in conversation with a dear friend and the subject turned to holidays. How excited I get at the potential of holiday cheer and 4th of July fireworks. And how I just can not get to excited. Am I damaged? Too sharp for my own good? Am I making a grand statement about the futility of celebration when even Jesus and Elvis will in time be forgotten?

 

Upon reflection (or refraction…it was a later in the evening conversation), I realized that I do celebrate the holidays, just in a non traditional sense.

 

October is my Christmas and New Years. October is me (spiritual) birthday. October is my Independance Day, where the fireworks don’t flash before you and die, they die slowly, in the fashion that all life weaves in and out focus. October is my jam.

 

To me, October is an amalgam of every holiday, all laid out in a lovely 31 day package, And ending with Halloween, which is officially Christmas For Freaks. Like me.

 

Recognize your good fortune. People pay for such surroundings (and yeah…as do we). You have tripped backwards into bliss, baby.

 

Stomp around and make crunchy sounds. Get excited about pumpkins.

 

You get one a year. Go forth and Love.