On Hallowe’en the old ghosts come
About us, and they speak to some;
To others they are dumb.
They haunt the hearts that love them best;
In some they are by grief possessed,
In other hearts they rest.
They have a knowledge they would tell;
To some of us it is a knell,
To some a miracle.
They come unseen, they go unseen;
And some will never know they’ve been,
And some know all they mean.
“The New Book of Days” by Eleanor Farjeon
“Anybody can look at a pretty girl and see a pretty girl. An artist can look at a pretty girl and see the old woman she will become. A better artist can look at an old woman and see the pretty girl that she used to be. But a great artist-a master-and that is what Auguste Rodin was-can look at an old woman, protray her exactly as she is…and force the viewer to see the pretty girl she used to be…and more than that, he can make anyone with the sensitivity of an armadillo, or even you, see that this lovely young girl is still alive, not old and ugly at all, but simply prisoned inside her ruined body. He can make you feel the quiet, endless tragedy that there was never a girl born who ever grew older than eighteen in her heart…no matter what the merciless hours have done to her.”
― Robert Heinlein
The Saxons called October Wyn-Monath, or Wine Month.
Ancient Germans called October, Winter fyleth
In honor of the full moon.
In 2020 the golden colors of the Wine Month
leave me feeling drunk.
In my stupor I dream of snowy days
And white snowflakes tumbling down from the sky.
On the trail flowers and ferns testify to the delicate balance of nature throughout the seasons. A wild flower may appear along the path by itself, or you might find it flourishing in bunches. The lone flower may not return the next year, allowing only one chance to appreciate it in the moment.
In the photo you will see a New England Aster. Its deep purple color stands out against the reds and browns of the October landscape.