I spend much of my life counting down the days until Halloween. And yet, when it comes as close as it is now, there’s a certain heaviness and sadness that comes with it, that makes me wish it would slow down, and that the season would last just a little bit longer. I don’t know if Halloween has ever really been about one specific day for me, even as a child. Yes, I always looked forward to the actual day of, to the point of once being told by my father to “stop wishing his weekend away” when it fell on a Sunday, but there was always more to it than that, even if I didn't have any specific plans leading up to Halloween itself. It was about the world being alive with autumn colors, the decorations on neighbors’ lawns and on long car rides. Just a general feeling in the air that wasn’t fully discernible during any other time of year. I tried to write a poem about it once. I don’t remember the specifics, and I don’t really know whether I should wish I still had the notebooks that cont...