Katie Pumpkinhead’s Pumpkin Patch

 Sometimes I truly feel like this is the hardest point on the road back to Halloween. I spend November mourning, and soaking up what is left of autumn. The remnants of Halloween still linger, though not as much as I wish that they would. December brings the inevitable start of Christmas, despite that fact that many have been locked in since the second the clock struck midnight on November 1st. It becomes my battle, in a way, to keep Halloween alive when everyone is so distracted. To be a voice for those of us who, maybe, don't find Christmas time quite as merry. I am a safe space, not only for myself, but to the others that need Halloween as much as I do.  It's hard not to get distracted. As December descends into its final week before the supposed "big day", I get lost in nostalgia. I don't, necessarily, want to fall down the Christmas rabbit hole, the way Jack Skellington did, but I think about it. And the thought, the memory, becomes all-consuming for a few day...

  I don't think I ever understood the world's obsession with spring. Perhaps it's because I've always found new beginnings ominous, as opposed to exciting. You could say I'm averse to change. But then, autumn is a time of change as well, isn't it? Regardless of the reason, I never understood what is so exciting about baking sun and bright skies. Or how the flowers, in shades of pink, purple, yellow...or the green grass and leaves, for that matter, were supposedly more beautiful, more inviting, than the explosions of different shades of orange against a spooky gray sky.  Most people want to fast forward to this time of year, but I wish I could fast-forward through it. Spring and summer...what is so lovely to the rest of the world, is a time of physical and mental exhaustion for me. It's a strange thing, when I really think about it. The countdown to Halloween is longest in the winter months, as the clock resets. We cling to the memories of last Halloween, so ...

 January is, perhaps, the strangest time on the countdown to Halloween. The classic cliche of "so close, yet so far." So hopeful, yet so hopeless. Sure, we can now say "this Halloween"...but it feels further away than ever, as all the remnants of last Halloween have gone for good. November hurts, because the countdown resets then. So many days, weeks, months to go until the world transforms again. An entire year. And yet, it somehow doesn't seem so far away, as the sky clouds over in mourning and the remaining decorations, maybe forgotten, maybe triumphant, move in a sudden breeze as if to say, "It did happen. It was real. "  These little scraps of leftover Halloween are the strangest combination of sadness and hope. It feels so far away, yet so close at the same time. As if the door hasn't shut quite yet. If December doesn't slam the door in your face, though, January certainly does. Any stray pumpkin that may have survived November, Thanksgiv...

 Yesterday, a very rare thing happened to me. I got to have a snow day. If you’re what society considers to be an adult, you probably know what a rare occurrence this. Yesterday morning, as I got ready for work, I scrolled through Instagram a bit and envied anyone who was sharing spooky, snowy photos. Then, as luck would have it, the town decided not to so much as sprinkle a grain of salt onto my street until well after 1PM, so going to work was out of the question. I spent the day trying to nurture myself creatively, which honestly has not been the easiest thing to do lately, and managed to take some pictures I am very happy with.  While I prefer the backdrop of autumn, by far, sometimes I feel like I really don’t give winter the credit that it deserves. In autumn, everything is dying, but in winter, everything is already dead. It’s a strange thing to try to explain, but have you ever gone outside during a snowstorm, and just listened? The silence that blankets the air is so ...