There is an image that many of us keep in our minds, of a child waiting for Santa Claus on the evening of December 24th.
Many of us can recall being that child, jumping up hopefully at every slight little sound, thinking it may be reindeer on the roof.
These memories and images represent our belief in magic in its truest form.
And for many people, this goes away after so many years.
I no longer wait to see a sleigh flying past me, but for me, magic...anticipation...is still very much a part of my life.
On the evening of September 30th I look outside. I catch sight of a leaf with a tint of orange or yellow or red. I feel a chill in the air. A strange aura of spookiness. I see pumpkins on porches and can almost sense the excitement of the people that placed them there.
The greatest gifts of my year don't come from a man on a sleigh with a sack full of items.
I wake up on the morning of October first and run into the waiting arms of the time of year I long for. My gift is already unwrapped, waiting to be discovered.
On the night before Christmas I used to dream of what could be potentially be under the tree in the morning.
But none of these dreams could ever compare to the dream of the coming of October.
Maybe I should be bored of it by now. Maybe I should have outgrown it, like that tale of a man and his magic sleigh, but with each passing year, I only grow more excited. More insatiable.
Unless that man in the sleigh could conjure a way to make October last forever, there is nothing I could possibly need of him.
The leaves fall, the pumpkins glow, and I take comfort in knowing that we are here.
Happy October Eve.
May the month ahead feel endless.
Happy October! Beautifully written as always.
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