Spirits
It will be a good day. No matter what. I stepped outside for my winter morning ritual, the soul cleansing dip into cold air. It was there. I am refreshed. The sky is clear. The stars are bright. The woodsmoke from my neighbor’s house-warming stove scents the air. My loyal subjects, the cats, laid a field mouse at my door. My heart is warmed. I will let them keep it. After all, it’s the thought that counts when it comes to gifts.
Last night I renewed an old musical acquaintance. Went to listen to a violin and commune with nature. We took a walk. The music played as the sun set. It was pastoral with only a touch of amplification. There was a trumpet, too. That added a nice touch. And a harmonica. The songs were familiar, and the pace was easy. Probably not everyone’s cup of tea but tea comes in a lot of varieties and this one fit the day and time for me. Who knows what tomorrow might bring?
Tonight, it will be a visit with friends to pass out candy to costumed children. In my suburban days with my own children, tonight was a big night. Costumes, walks in the dark, and spooky music. Our move to the country out in Alvin ended all that. I imagine it was too realistically spooky to walk up to a dark house in the middle of six acres and knock on the door asking for candy. No one came. Can’t say that I blame them. Now, here we are, many years later, and I have my own personal ghost, a spirit, and it’s Halloween and it all seems oddly fitting.
John W. Wilson is the author of The Long Goodbye: A Caregiver’s Tale