The last day of October was a fine one, but I wasn’t yet feeling it. I took myself out to the front-yard with a book and cup of coffee to see what could be done about it.
It was around the fifth sip that I heard a little voice pipe up, “My father is going to be a duck!”
I grinned. How marvelous to see adults transform into ducks?!
I laughed in spite of myself, and had a short, sweet conversation with the dinosaur wanna-be, born to a duck wanna-be. Life, that hitherto felt dull, suddenly seemed full of possibility. Oh Sweet Halloween!
The children had decorated the front yard and the door step sweetly enough, but I yearned to look at the passionate decorators and what all they had in store for us that evening. One house has pumpkins carved every few feet, another had cobwebs and ghosts flapping and wailing through the cold days. The evening saunter would reveal the true artists, and though I did not know it then, I was in for a real treat that evening.
Very soon, the human stomach beckoned, and I headed into the kitchen to whip up another meal. Really! Why could human beings not be camels or tardigrades?! Why must we be slaves to our stomachs, and have these enticing appetites every few hours? It is all most trying for someone who does not enjoy cooking every meal of every day very much. (Tardigrades can apparently go for 30 years without food!)
Why could we not be like pelicans? When hungry, we could start dipping and dancing for our food, and then idly pedal around in the bays, and lakes. Wouldn’t that be marvelous?
A few hours later, after the never ending jobs of cooking, eating, and cleaning were done, the husband & I set off on a bike ride. The afternoon was slightly windy, and the clouds had scattered beautifully across the skies. As we pedaled rhythmically, my high strung sensibilities started to calm somewhat, but I still felt unmoored.
We stopped to take a break and where usually, I raved about the beauty of the world around us, I sat mute. The husband glanced at me somewhat surprised. It took a few minutes for nature to work its magic. But it did. There was a man who had his dogs on a long leash with him, and they kept trying to go in for a swim in the lake. It made a lovely diversion to watch them splash into the water, and then out again, in again, and out again. The tiny sparkles in the water, with the fall colors of the flora around the lake, slowly but surely raised the spirits.
As we pedaled back, I thought idly how lucky the ducks were. They had no idea that it was Halloween, and I am sure none of them wanted to dress up as human beings, but we wanted a little bit of magic and wanted to dress as ducks. That is as it should be.
That evening, I was an artist on the streets with ducks, dinosaurs, aliens, princesses, ninjas and superheroes.
The family that dressed as a volcano, ash cloud and tornado had my respect.
The house that scared me was the one where I inadvertently stepped on something and a large Aragog-like spider sprang up from the lawns nearby. Sometimes, our imaginations do go too far, but how lovely it is to have it and exercise it on Halloween?!
“Where there is no imagination there is no horror.” Arthur Conan Doyle