Spirits in the Mist

 

Magical places truly exist, for I have seen them.
  

My children and I had explored forests in Ireland where ancient trees reached must have been a thousand feet up to the sky.   Rain fell as mists through thick branches upon uplifted faces and open mouths, children catching raindrops.  Fallen leaves renewed the earth beneath, turning into damp forest floors, churned about by my children's feet. 

Scents from long ago filtered up and around trees as if from between the worlds.

Light dappled through breaks where branches opened then closed, then it danced to another hidden patch of ground.  Light then dark.  Dark then light.  My children chased to hop on light circles as each appeared, "Mine!..No, mine!..."

Johnny discovered a flat stone table resting on three ragged granite stones.  He claimed this table with its stones and laid leaves and sticks upon it.  Mary and Erin danced around and around it, laughing and singing. Tossing leaves up into fresh air, they sang the Happy Birthday and Alphabet Songs.

As for me, a flat stone table had been kept steady with three jagged stone table legs hidden within ancient trees in a cleared round space, held bygone and mystic secrets. 

 

People whose feet pressed into the ground have faded away, leaving only stones from which blood had poured from a still body.  Hidden words through long dead lips whispered and swayed through the branches, and then disappeared in the mist.

 

Ocean Born Mary

 

My children raced away down an old path, calling each other names.  Me?

I wrapped my wool jacket close to my body, shivering and cold.  I did not race away, but I hurried with eyes on my feet, not turning my head to see the stones or hazy shapes manifest and then merge with shadows. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Praise be to God! Halloween is over!

 

 

 

Halloween is over…Praise be to God.

Starting at 6:00 pm, they came in waves:

 

                     low tide, heavy surf, high tide…

Little princesses, little super heroes with proud parents holding them…Shy, little first-timers are so shy.

Mixed in the low tide were toddlers and pre-school delights, walking uncertainly to the door.  “Tank you…”

 

The golden delights (eight to twelve yr. old) boldly stride to the door.  “Triggertree” they said, with their plastic pumpkins held out.  Parents waiting on the sidewalk talk and look at the watches.  “Thanks…” Parents smile and wave.  Some respond to a sign on the door. They gave to the Wounded Warriors.

Heavy surf.  

Teenagers charge the door, running from house to house.  Demand “Triggertree!”  No parents this time.  Should have been, but no.

Shock hits when they see the bold sign:  No Adults or Teens.  ‘But I’m…I’m…only …ten. Hands, feet, and teeth always tell the truth, and they walk away.

 

 

  . 

 High Tide

 

Huge vans pull up under the street lamps, offloading streams of parents and kids, all ages, people not from this community or even this town.  These  triggertreeders are out trolling for more candy.  Exhausted children are dragged along with these adults who expect to harvest the candy from their kids.

This neighborhood is mostly retirees, their lights were off. The cuteness factor of the low tide is what matters.

Oh-God-Please!-not these!  Time is 8:25, about 5 minutes to lights off. We had originally put up 8:30, just easing away from the door.

Hoards from other neighborhoods and/or towns hit the door, but then brake to read the signs: 

Candy is for children only; No Adults and Teens; and, Donate to Wounded Warriors (with a five-gallon water bottle, containing change and dollar bills).

Parents, dressed in tutus and ghostly sheets, are confused, walking away with evil eyes. Small kids step up “Triggertree”, holding out pillowcases, heavy with candy.  Most said Thanks.

Teens announced they are twelve—nice try.  One tall boy looks confused; he doesn't speak English.  ‘Say you’re twelve’ he is told, but he announces ‘diaz’. No.

Only one little boy asked about the signs.  “Candy is for children only…candy costs money…we can’t afford it…” he is told.

Finally 8:30 pm arrives.  Signs come down. Lights go off.

The water bottle holds more and more change.  From which wave?  It did not matter.  They donated to the veterans and smile.

We collected about $125.

The waves settled into calm water.  Praise be to God.

What do you think?  Check out these sites:

 Are adults too old to go trick or treating alone, without children?

Is there an age at which an adolescent should stop trick or treating?

Getting Down with Punkin' Chunkin'

 

                            This is the every-day type of punkin  chunkin.

                                              This is the super-sized punkin..,1 ton punkin.

                                            This is a 22 tonne cannon. It is crazy.

Just in case you thinkin' this is a worthless thing to do as entertainment goes, there is Mission Statement:

Here is an official statement from the WCPCA:

The World Championship Punkin Chunkin Association (WCPCA) is a trademark nonprofit that raises money for scholarships, as well as organizations that benefit youth and the local community. 

We host a signature pumpkin-launching event each year, fueling innovative engineering and science-based ideas that draw spectators from all over. 

We believe that Punkin Chunkin cultivates the odd, challenging, and competitive quest for distance that inspires creativity, ingenuity, teamwork, and passion. 

It is this very dedication that drives teams to compete using science and engineering skills and brings spectators to the gate which allows us  to continue our never ending thirst to support our scholarship and charitable programs.

 That wraps up my non-celebration of Halloween.