All Hallows Eve

A damp and dreary Halloween night, brightened by wonderful friends.  And tea and cookies.  And candy.  And  a trio  of little boys running with delight through puddles and wind and the glow of jack o'lanterns on the porches.

It was quieter than usual on Somerton, with only the most stalwart trick-or-treaters braving the windy drizzle, and many houses dark. We only made it to Middlehurst-- but that was far enough to enjoy the Best Halloween House Ever and for all the kids to get a pretty nice haul of candy.  It didn't hurt that the Somerton crowd, prepared with candy for hundreds of kids, were giving liberal handfuls to the few who came to their doors.

I walked with Ivy and the dog and there was a lot of juggling and balancing as I held Ivy's skirt for her up the stairs, maneuvered the dog through the clusters of children, and tried (unsuccessfully) to keep us dry.  It was totally worth it to watch my little princess charm everyone she met.  We also got to spend time with Jeffrey, the most adorable superman you've ever seen, and occasionally Sam the power ranger.

I didn't see Jack, Greg, or Max (ninja, ninja, and Spiderman, respectively) until we were almost home.  Its a brave new world of Trick-or-treating, with these big boys, suddenly so confident and independent and capable.  Toy swords flashing,  running ahead of us, eager to check out their candy and make trades, eyes alight with the thrill and freedom and anticipation of it all.

How am I the mom of one of the big boys?  So soon?  Just yesterday I was holding the hand of a little Max-in-his-wolf-suit, shepherding him up and down all those porch steps.

Life, measured in Halloween nights.

These once-a-year events, in their brilliant focus, they contrast so sharply with the blur of daily life... Tonight, I see the speed of it all even as I slow my pace to savor this singular moment.  This is a night Jack may remember for the rest of his life.  We remember our Halloweens.

Even wind-whipped and dreary, this night is magic.