The Dichotomy//October 195th, 2025

It was the one gloomy day we really had all October. It had been unseasonably warm. So sunny. The atmosphere of Halloween, of 'spooky season', if you will, was nearly lost.

But that day was different. Good things loomed on the horizon for me. I was about to go off in celebration of my favorite holiday, in my favorite place. If I was lucky, which I was, I might complete the final leg of a particular piece of my healing journey on that trip. I don't know that I've ever been more excited.

I called my mother that morning, as I took a walk around the block. Her birthday was the next day. We talked about everything, but mostly how happy I was.

It felt like magic.

I came home and sat out in the yard, looking around as I always do, taking in one last glimpse of my home in October. It's always so strange to look at anything, any place, and think, 'Next time I'm here, it won't be October anymore.'

I may as well say:

Next time I'm here's I won't be me anymore.

The gloom was so spectacular to me, and I knew it wouldn't last. So in that moment, I snapped a picture. A portrait of October, standing on the precipice of Halloween. A celebration to come, a celebration to end, and journey to circle all around again next year.

I've looked at that picture so many times, to remind myself that I didn't dream it.

And now it's April on the Gregorian calendar. Yet it feels a little bit like that day. Not cold, not hot. Sometimes early spring feels like a second fall; a tease of sorts. It's back again, but not. It feels like it's here, but still so far away. An entire summer standing between me and that feeling. That magic.

I sit in that same spot tonight. I look up at the pink leaves and I envision them crumbling before me. Only blooming and I wait for their demise.

The spring colors are so pretty; they remind me of being a child, hunting for eggs left behind by a magical bunny, and yet I cry. Cry for what was, and what will be again, and the journey in between.

I will sit out here again on an October day, hopefully as jubilant and hopeful as I was last year.

But for now I watch the strange pastels form, feeling like that rotted pumpkin sitting among Christmas lights on a porch.

Comments

Pumpkin Guts: Devil’s Night//October 277th, 2024

I was recently given the opportunity to check out a new, independent Halloween short film called Pumpkin Guts: Devil’s Night. (Picture from IMDb) I first became aware of this film through the Instagram page , and to say I absolutely knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that I’d love it, would be an understatement. I can always tell when a piece of media is truly going to radiate Halloween, in the way that will transport me through whatever month we’re currently in (in this case, probably the most disgusting July on record) and into Halloween night itself. When I was offered early access to this short film, I could not have been more honored. Even though I’ve built up somewhat of a following within the Halloween community, it still amazes me every day that people finally truly see and feel what I’m trying to create; that my love of Halloween finally means something and brings some joy and comfort to others like myself, and that anyone, especially a filmmaker, would trust me ...

Here’s Where The Story Ends//October 337th, 2020

Everyone has moments in their life when they feel like giving up. That feeling of “This is never going to happen, so why keep trying?” Sometimes it relates to a thing that would be trivial to anyone else, sometimes it’s about something more life-altering. But, we’ve all been there. I have moments of discouragement with this blog. Times I’ve told myself, “No one cares”, or “No one will read this”, etc., but I continue on, for the joy of it. And sometimes, something amazing happens. If you haven’t read my previous post, Have You Seen This Pumpkin? , I would strongly suggest doing so before continuing on with this story. The short version is, I saw a pumpkin in someone’s window when I was twelve years old, and have spent the last twenty-one years trying to find it for myself. When I published that post, I wasn’t expecting much of a response. I was really just hoping to hear someone say, “Yes, my family had this pumpkin when I was a kid!” Or “I once saw this in a neighbor’...

Don't Be The Toothbrush In Someone Else's Pumpkin Pail//October 303rd, 2025

It's that time of year again, boils and ghouls! Spooky season has officially arrived on the scene, and Summer Summers of Summerville is just sick about it. She and her cronies are out here acting like that ghost pillow in their local HomeGoods means the beach is now closed until Memorial Day 2026 and the sun will not be seen again until next June. Did you know Halloween decor in July actually shortens people's summers? What a phenomenon! Obviously, this is not the case. It's still, sadly, meteorologically speaking, very much summer. But those of us who want to look ahead have as much right to do so as thought that don't wish to look ahead have every right to do a strange little thing I'll never understand called "enjoy their summer". It doesn't have to be a battle, and yet, ever year, it is. Sometimes I think summer people dwell on autumn and Halloween more than those of us that actually live for it. If you're so focused on what other people are...

Katie Pumpkinhead’s Pumpkin Patch

Search This Blog