Katie Pumpkinhead’s Pumpkin Patch

  One of the strangest things about autumn is how you can watch it deteriorate. It comes in so bright and beautiful, so alive, despite it all. Everything is so colorful. The world seems to be bursting at the seams in anticipation of a celebration; posing for a picture of a moment in time that will gone all too soon. Each time the wind blows it feels like a pleasant hello, the leaves waving.  The world feels full of potential. And acceptance. So much acceptance.  Halloween comes, and then it goes. And suddenly everything goes strangely silent. From magical to mournful. It's like being at an amusement park after it closes. Everything is still there, it's just so quiet and hollow now. Eerie, almost. Desolate in a way that doesn't quite make sense. It looks almost the same...shouldn't it feel the same? The last leaves flutter to the ground, and I can't tell if they're sad to go or desperate to catch up to their brethren. Afraid to be left behind.  Then suddenly they...

  They tell me the season hasn't changed. That it's still autumn. And yet, everything feels different. Painfully so.  On the mornings I have a little extra time, I drink my coffee outside, just as I did in October. And I look up at the trees, up at the sky that once seemed to radiate anticipation and excitement, and listen to the wind that once seemed to whisper the secrets of a thousand ghosts; carry the voices of hundreds of pumpkins from miles around as their candles illuminated their mouths, and I see nothing but death and desolation. I watch the leaves fall, brown and brittle. They remind me of dry, cracked skin in winter, ready to split open and bleed...bleed out the last of autumn, only their blood is invisible. Colorless, like November itself. I watch a sad group of leaves scatter about, scurrying like the family members that stayed too long at the party and now politely being shooed away. I notice one of them hitting newly every branch on the way down, as if trying to...

I am on a walk. Likely the last walk I will take in my neighborhood before Halloween has passed.  Also likely the last where so many leaves will still be on the trees. We're expecting storms tomorrow, a gloomy day before Halloween. As I walk, I can't help but wish to find myself entrapped in some kind of time loop.  It doesn't seem fair that the next time I walk these streets, so many of the decorations will be gone. The feeling in the air will have evaporated, gone for a whole year yet again. I look at the road in front of me and I see the stress of the holiday season. I see springtime allergies. I see the inevitable battle with summer and the depression it brings me. To think I will have to endure several months of neverending blinding daylight and stifling heat again before this all returns is almost too much to bear, even though it's only the 29th of October.  I'm just not ready for it to be over yet. I look around and try to see if I can find the portal. The po...

 I went for another walk tonight. The sky was so gray and gloomy, it was absolutely perfect. These are the moments I live for, the moments I have to soak up before they're all gone. As I walked, I felt fully immersed in the October atmosphere. Once again as if I were in a movie or Halloween special. It's one of those evenings where you can just feel it.  But there is such a strange melancholy to this, the final countdown to Halloween.  October, for me, is life in its truest form. The time everyone and everything stops hiding. Decorations and costumes are more like windows to the soul. What you dress up as, how you decorate...it all feels like a reflection of what's just beyond the surface. The parts of us we hide, but wish we didn't have to.  It's strange how fleeting it is. I walk tonight, and it feels like a celebration, but also a painful goodbye.  I look around at all of the decorations I see, and know they won't be here soon. Some of them will disappear imm...

 I keep seeing these social media posts, saying things like "This October isn't October-ing the way previous Octobers Octobered", or something along those lines. (This picture was found on a random Instagram account so I'm unsure of the artist.) To be fair, I feel like these kinds of posts pop up for every occasion. Every month, every holiday...there always has to be some mass complaint that it doesn't feel like years past. (Don't even get me started on how every single New Year's Eve post is always about how much the previous year sucked.) I understand it, sometimes...I think, in general, we are all always chasing the feelings we got from certain holidays and moments in time as children. I don't know that Christmas has felt Christmas-y to me since I turned eighteen-ish. It's hard not to feel like something is broken, when you're reaching for something that is no longer there, ripped away by the inevitable phenomenon of growing older.  However,...

 I have said, since my childhood, that Halloween ends the most abruptly of all the holidays.  I can't really decide if it's gotten better or worse as I've gotten older.  It's great that a year-round Halloween community exists, of course, but October and Halloween-time are truly so fleeting. Perhaps the most fleeting things I can think of. The morning of November 1st comes, and decorations are being packed away, hidden again, as if no one can dare know, beyond the 31 days of October itself, that strange and spooky things are of interest to anyone; that "scary" doesn't always have to be a bad thing. And for that reason, for how fleeting it truly is, every moment of October truly feels precious. Every moment of October not spent somehow acknowledging or being immersed in it, seems wasted, criminal.  Sometimes, during the month of October, I feel like a person who's been told I only have a limited amount of time left to live. And perhaps I do...I've al...

  I went for my first walk in ages tonight.  The last real walk I remember going on, was a December morning, when Halloween was being discarded.  I remember seeing pumpkins by garbage cans, empty spaces where ghosts once flew.  The ghosts of ghosts, you might say.  The world hasn't looked the same, since then. But now, now it is autumn. It is that magical time when September shifts into almost-October; goes from being my birthday month to almost-Halloween.  I walk tonight, and I see the beginnings.  Not everyone has decorated yet, but it is starting. The world is beginning to look like a place I recognize once more, and old friends are appearing on lawns or in doorways, or peering down at me from windows.   I'm not sure if I'm waking up from a dream, or have fallen back to sleep.  But whatever it is, it feels good. The best I have felt in a long time. "Welcome back," I say to the decorations, and to autumn and Halloween, and to myself. "It fe...

  Today, we stand at the beginning of the road. The start of something we've anticipated for so long, it sometimes felt like it was never going to arrive.  Today the sky darkens in the most inviting shade of gray, bringing a breeze and a gentle flutter of leaves just starting to turn shades of yellow or red or brown.  Our memories harken us back to the place that feels like some fictional dreamworld each year, a world ablaze in color, celebrating the things that most people don't dare speak of, when it isn't time. It's almost hard to believe this is the same world we've existed in all summer long, with its endless days of blinding sunlight and green, green, green, as far as the eye can see.  Some are sad about summer's end, but we know it won't go without a fight. There will still be hot days, still moments where the light is too bright, although the summer has lasted so long already. Today we see the start of the most fleeting season. Summer clings on, leav...

  I heard someone say, the other day, that we are heading into the final week of summer before Labor Day, before it's 'back to reality' . This was such a strange thing for me to hear.  The season that September will usher in, has always been the dream state for me.  'Back to reality' is a phrase I associate with coming back from a vacation, or the end of a magical event. I have never once thought of entering the fall season as the end of something. Fall is the event.  When I think of summer, I think of the mundane. The bright, generic reality that people seem to love to exist within. It's a time where everyone blends in, but I stand out, my eyes water-bleeding from the sunlight, my body exhausted and my energy zapped from the heat. It feels like being trapped in a cubicle at a 9-5 job, working hours of overtime every day.  I don't know that I can think of anything more mundane and constricting than summer. This is the escape people crave, but summer, for me,...

  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...

  I've not cared much for December for many years now.  Adulthood came, and confiscated the magic of Christmas.  I guess I never really minded, as I've always felt I have something much more magical.  But still, I look around at the colorful lights and smiling characters adorning the lawns now, where the skeletons and pumpkins and ghosts stood not long ago at all, and I feel resentment. Society forgets that November is still, very much, autumn. The world forgets to hold space for the remaining pumpkins and scarecrows, anymore.  But I watch for them. I've learned to treat November like an extension of October. A funeral, of sorts. I celebrate the fact that it happened, and search for the remnants around me. This year, though, it hasn't been easy.  October, for the most part, felt like an extension of summer. Halloween came with a high of 83 degrees and blazing sun, as if October itself wanted to wear a costume that made it almost unrecognizable. It felt more...

I have probably spent a significant part of my adult life chasing the high of Christmas Eve in my childhood. Though Halloween was always my favorite holiday, Christmas Eve felt like this otherworldly time, when the whole world sat on edge, waiting for something magical to happen. And once the morning came, everything would be as it had been the year before. A homecoming. I haven’t felt that way about Christmas in a very long time, but tonight I feel that excitement once more. I see the pieces coming back together. The decorations I mourned last year reappearing, on neighbors’ lawns and doorsteps, in stores I visit. Pumpkins, real  pumpkins, are alive and waiting once more, relevant again, no longer the rotting forms left over from a night no one seems to remember. We are seen.  The world looks like a place I recognize again, and I don’t have to squint so hard to see it. I don’t look across the lake and imagine the green trees turning orange and red and yellow, because now they...

Do I rush the seasons? Probably. Autumn has always been the only season for me. The other seasons have their moments, some more than others, but I never feel as alive as I do in September and October. I don't necessarily mean to wish time away, but I can't help but yearn for what sets my heart ablaze, whether it's the dead of winter, the start of spring, or a day those unlike myself would deem 'perfect beach weather'.  Everyone has things they love, things they surround themselves with to make the most out of life. Mine just happens to be 'seasonal'.  Even as Halloween becomes more popular within mainstream society, so many people still don't understand the desire to hold onto that feeling all year round. Sometimes, even those within the Halloween community act like it takes away from things somehow, while I know I'd be miserable if I didn't live my life the way I do. I have tried to give it up, a few different times for a few different reasons, ...

 Every year I talk about November 1st...it's such a confusing day. It makes me feel so many emotions all at once. Mournful, depressed, angry...It's like a slap in the face shoving us into a new month, forcing us to forget what came just hours before. Last year, I did have somewhat of  an epiphany  regarding the month of November as a whole, and while I do my best to keep my own past words in mind, that doesn't make today any easier. Or easy to explain, for that matter. I suppose I should speak from my heart.  Today I feel detached from reality, as if I don't really exist. Like there is no longer a place in the world for me. Just yesterday everything I loved made sense, and was loved and revered by everyone else as well. I felt like I fit. But now, today, I see those same things being quickly shoved away. Less than twenty-four hours after trick-or-treating time began, it's all being swept under the rug. The season culminated and the world is no longer a place I recog...

The start of autumn, to me, always feels like seeing something in real life that you've seen in a dream. I remember once, during one of my many, many dreams about trick-or-treating on a day other than October 31st, seeing a house. I think the house, in the dream, was owned by a vampire man with a yard full of bats. Sometime later, I was in another state visiting family, and, because my father was in training for a marathon at the time, he insisted we go for a walk. On that walk that night, I saw a house that greatly resembled the one from my dream. It invoked a similar emotion, and lit up a spark inside of me, of excitement and curiosity. I believe this was the first time I ever experienced that, seeing something from a dream in reality, but it certainly wasn't the last.  I don't remember all of my dreams, but the ones I do remember tend to stay with me. The imagery, the emotions, the general feeling of it.  And autumn itself is very similar.  It's no secret that I thin...

  Thanksgiving is the day that autumn finally throws its now-brittle, bare hands up in defeat. The remaining ghosts of Halloween are pulled back into the Netherworld, as if they are guests who have overstayed their welcome. Thanksgiving is the day the pumpkins get their final chance, if they managed to survive post-Halloween. They sit at their doorsteps, knowing their days are now really numbered, and they will be discarded, or left to rot, unnoticed.  Autumn remains for another month, but it is tired now. Tired of fighting, tired of screaming and barely being heard. Thanksgiving is the day that autumn surrenders. The day that autumn whispers into the wind for one final time,  "I'm still here." Only a few of us hear it. And those few of us know that's it's not  truly  over yet.  But Thanksgiving is a day that feels like a death.  The death of autumn for another year.  There is a finality to it now, and we mourn.

  Sometimes, the coming of autumn feels like a faraway dream. One that can never be truly realized, much like falling in love with a fictional world. It feels tangible, yet not, at the same time, when the world is blanketed in snow, or scorching with the heat of summer.  You remember autumn existing, but does it? You wonder. It feels so far away, like it happened, but didn’t. Like some fuzzy dream of something that could have happened, but seems too perfect to have been real. Summer does its best to destroy any hope of that beautiful dream existing again. The stifling heat overtakes the world like an ominous shadow, draining the life out of everything. Every task feels exhausting as the sun burns through another day, burning our energy, burning our eyes. It feels like a perpetual headache; this constant persistent heaviness over your day, your life, that feels like it will never break. You think of the pumpkins from your beloved dream of autumn, and how they wilt and wither at...

 Sometimes I wonder if it’s possible to have seasonal depression, during every season that isn’t fall. I know it’s there in summer. The constant sun and heat has the completely opposite effect on me than it has on most people. It makes me miserable; its only redeeming quality being the fact that it’s the last stepping stone til fall. It’s a different kind of feeling though, as the winter comes. I don’t necessarily have a problem with the cold weather. I prefer it, any day, over the heat. But still, there is something so saddening, as November tapers off into December, taking with it the last remnants of autumnal comfort. I hated November so much when I was younger. I would draw big X’s through the O’s on my calendars and planner pads. I treated it as if it were unspeakably horrible, and perhaps the first of the month still is. But once I confront the petulant bully that is November 1st, and put it in its place, just a box on the calendar, it’s as if the rest of the month relaxes an...

 I promise I’ll post something less melancholy one of these days, but post-Halloween depression and the end of the autumn season bring about the more solemn memories of spooky seasons gone by. I’m not sure when I first really started recognizing my post-Halloween depression and acknowledging how it affected me. I think it was somewhere in my pre-teen years, probably around middle school age. However, there was always some part of me fighting to keep Halloween alive in the off-season. I truly have no idea why I never kept decorations up year round in my bedroom when I was younger. It wasn’t until my early twenties that I even considered this an option. I don’t think anyone would’ve taken issue with me keeping some plastic pumpkins on display in my own space all year round, especially considering that at some point, as a toddler, I’d gotten so strangely attached to an Easter lamb window cling, that my mother allowed me to keep it in my bedroom window until it dried out too much to st...

 I feel a strange energy in the air today.  I had planned to take a lot of pictures, even hauled six real pumpkins outside with me, and of course, it started to rain. Not too heavily, but enough to make me wary of having handmade dolls outside for an extended period of time. I finished up what I could, but I found myself still longing to be outside.  That’s a strange occurrence for me, in November. I do try, sometimes desperately, to hold onto the fact that November is still autumn, but it’s not always easy, especially in a day and age where Christmas takes over on November first, and autumnal decor for Thanksgiving doesn’t seem to exist anymore. (Does anyone remember when grocery stores would stock pumpkins until Black Friday?) Today, however, has been a different kind of day. It’s hard to explain, but after pulling a chair under one of the umbrellas on the patio, I looked around and just felt the strangest feelings and energies. The sky is gray, and there’s a melan...