The front of the house looks inviting, but no one comes to the door these days except the mailman and Amazon. I forget what a real social life is, with friends and family around the table eating, drinking and talking. We have not had company inside since last December. That is incredibly sad.
For Halloween, we're supposed to put a bucket of candy out on the sidewalk, but it isn't the same as opening the door for trick-or-treaters. It was about the only time we would even see the neighborhood kids and their parents. I always looked forward their costumes from year-to-year. Superheroes never go out of style.
One positive thing about the pandemic--it brought families out of the house this summer. Traffic picked up again on the side streets, but for a while I'd see kids riding bikes alone around the neighborhood. Like the old days, when your mom would say, "just be home in time for dinner."
Nothing new around here, except that feeling of the weather about to change in a big way. There's a storm coming this weekend, and next week will be mostly wet. In October, the Northwest dark and wet closes in quite suddenly, like a curtain going down.
Robert Frost's perfect little melancholy fall poem:
Nature's first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf's a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf,
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day
Nothing gold can stay.
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