Welcome to The Coffee Shop, just for you early risers on Monday mornings. This is an Open Thread forum, so if you have an off-topic opinion burning a hole in your brainpan, feel free to add a comment.
“Where’s your will to be weird?” ― Jim Morrison
by William Shakespeare
That time of year thou may’st in me behold
When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang
Upon those boughs which shake against the cold,
Bare ruin’d choirs, where late the sweet birds sang.
In me thou see’st the twilight of such day,
As after sunset fadeth in the west,
Which by-and-by black night doth take away,
Death’s second self, that seals up all in rest.
In me thou see’st the glowing of such fire
That on the ashes of his youth doth lie,
As the death-bed whereon it must expire
Consum’d with that which it was nourish’d by.
. . This thou perceivest, which makes thy love more strong,
. . To love that well which thou must leave ere long.
I’ve thinking about Halloween over the weekend — It was originally the eve of the New Year in the ancient Celtic calendar, a time of endings and beginnings, when the veils between worlds thinned, so fairie folk may creep into the human world to bespell the unwary, and the dead return to visit their kin.
In 21st century America, it’s much more mundane. I just need to get a couple of extra large bags of candy this week for all the kids in our extended neighborhood, check the batteries on our big fake candle lantern (much safer on the front porch than the real thing), get out my giant orange bejeweled spider pin to wear on my all-black shirt and pants, which is not really a costume, but a semi-dignified substitute.
And, of course, I need a Halloween playlist. But it’s not for the trick-or-treaters, this treat is for us grown-ups.