I can't remember the last time I went for a walk before today.
It may actually have been Christmas Day, as I was sick for most of January and the earlier part of February. That strange period of time when last Halloween is so close, yet so far
Today I set out, on my usual route, half happy to have the time, energy, and daylight to finally go off in search of inspiration once again, and half annoyed at the sunlight in my eyes and the knowledge of the imminent boss battle ahead of me, as it's already starting to feel like summer and it's not even officially spring. It felt strange, in a way, to be walking that way again, after so long. On my last walk, I felt the strange melancholy of a post-holiday world, combined with the Christmas facade falling away. I was standing on the borderline of autumn and winter, while today I almost felt as if I were walking the plank between winter's pirate ship and spring and summer's endless ocean.
Memories of autumn flooded me, as I saw in my mind's eye the colors of the trees, the decorations on lawns and in windows, the world transformed into something I recognized. But in reality, I realized I was walking in a world that will soon be full of blinding sunlight, green leaves, hues of pink and purple and yellow as the flowers bloom again. The people who live in the house that's decorated for Halloween on September 1st, were outside today debating on what should be planted in their garden. The house that was decorated like a witch's seminary a few months ago, now has only a car with a Hocus Pocus decal in the window as a reminder of what was.
Can these people possibly be happy now? I ask myself. I know I wouldn't be, if I could only express my love for Halloween through a window decal, or a storage shed crammed full of other holidays as well. But perhaps I'm different. Perhaps I am even strange. If this is the truth, so be it.
I searched for Halloween today, knowing I wouldn't really find it. If the rotted pumpkins are out there, they're beyond recognition now. And yet I soldier on. The memories keep it alive, and keep me going. The promise that the world will transform once again, keeps me living in it.
But I'd be lying if I said it doesn't feel far away, now.
People are already complaining that it doesn't feel like spring yet, when it's still technically winter. If an autumn person said that on, say, August 28th, we'd be crucified, told to stop rushing the seasons. Spring will get here. Summer will get here. And somehow, right now, it feels as though they will be endless, and autumn may never arrive.
It will, of course, but the road seems long.
But all roads, at least for me, lead to Halloween in the end.
Stay spooky, my friends.
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