In autumn the winding passage of ravens from the north heralds the great fall migration of caribou . . .
The passage of ravens. The great fall migration of caribou. Autumn.
This morning, I heard a great flock of geese above me, loud as city traffic. Honking and honking. Heading away from winter, toward something warmer, something summer. Perfect music for the beginning of Halloween.
It is late. I have just returned from the great migration of trick-or-treating. Both of my kids are in bed, and I am surrounded by plastic pumpkins filled with Milky Ways and Twix bars and boxes of Dots. I am watching an episode of the new season of American Horror Story. Believe it or not, I've never watched the show before. It's a good way to end a windy, dark Halloween night.
The Great Pumpkin has come and gone. It is time now to slip into November and Thanksgiving. December is right around the corner, and Bob Dylan will be traveling to Sweden to receive my Nobel Prize.
Saint Marty wishes everybody a Happy Halloween.