Halloween evening with rain and chilled air passed into All Souls Day bringing the first of November to the calendar. I succumb to the call of quiet and retreat to my reading chair with a fleece throw and a stack of books to thumb through. I finish reading Frank McCourt’s Teacher Man, thinking again what a fine writer he is and hoping he publishes another book soon.
Taking advantage of regaining an hour during the night, I then read a small collection of poems written and published by Mike and Joyce Gullickson, called The City in Your Heart. They hail from Georgetown, Texas and do their best to bring poetry to the people by publishing 2 poetry magazines a year, The Enigmatist and Blue Hole Magazine and hosting a small poetry festival from the Georgetown Library every October.
Remembering all who passed on before us extends from all the souls ever born to the holy men and women who lived their lives well and earned passage to Heaven, the saints. Today is All Saints Day in the Catholic Church and I attended Mass at Saint Monica’s, where each family who lost a loved one in the past year was invited to take one of the large candles from the steps of the altar. From where I was seated, the glass containers looked like a deep raspberry color but when I got close enough to get a few pictures, the color was different.
For me the months of September through Thanksgiving are when I wear all of my orange blouses or tee shirts and I seem to have accumulated several during my working years. By the end of November I’m ready to relegate them to the back of the closet for next year.