Leaf walks, Halloween, sticker collections & cupcakes
Whenever I take a walk in the fall, I’m reminded, happily, of the leaf walks of elementary school and of the pleasure of escaping into the just-right fall light and crunch-crunch-crunching along as we explored the neighborhood. Halloween was like that, too: the thrill of being out and about, the good dried leaves, the magical dark.
I looked but couldn’t find a pic of myself in my tried and true Halloween costumes — witch, ghost, and, in my Holly Hobbie / Laura Ingalls Wilder era, pioneer girl — but I did love trick-or-treating and, as you saw in my last post, organizing my candy.
When I think of Halloween, or Hallowe’en, which was the original shortening of All Hallows Eve, I think of this poem by my friend Lisa Russ Spaar from her book Glass Town :
I’m always happy to teach on Halloween, and I encourage, with mixed results, my students to wear costumes. I wear my cat ears, of course.
And this Halloween, I’m using this writing prompt, which you could try too.
Write a single line for each of the following:
* Your Halloween costume back then (whatever "back then" means to
you)
* Your oldest fear
* When you looked in the mirror, you saw...
* Now you see...
* And __________ is also a mirror
* Halloween used to mean...
* What you're hoping for now
* Your secret power
* I was _________ back then (a firefly; unstoppable; etc.)
The poem can be in this order and/or the lines can be written
on individual pieces of paper and then chosen at random. My
guess is that there are few good poems here. Mixing past and
present, fears and hopes and secret powers tends to be a potent
mix.
Does anyone else remember this book and how Georgie the ghost and Herman the cat and Miss Oliver the owl and the cow who for some reason has no name (??) scared the robbers—-? Super cute.
I was happy to find the book in my basement and even happier to come across my sticker collection! Look at those Holly Hobbie-ish girls! Look at those cats! In my last post, I mentioned back-to-school, and now leaf walks and stickers — clearly, I’m in a mood, and it’s a good one.
Probably some people wouldn’t have kept these things, but I’m glad I did. Something you’ve kept (might be an object, might be a secret, might be hope...) that others might not have would be another good writing prompt, maybe as poem or maybe flash nonfiction. See what you can do.
I suppose nostalgia is natural in autumn, and this post reflects that. I often feel nostalgic for Michigan, my home, even when I’m there. Curious, I know. One place in particular that is often in my thoughts is Mackinac Island. Fall is an especially beautiful time to visit, which I recently did.
Even if you’ve never been to Mackinac, you’ve heard, probably, that it’s known for fudge and horses and bicycles and Grand Hotel. All true, and that’s just the beginning! But I leave the travel advice to professionals (or message me if you really want to know my recs) as I’m better suited to sharing some of the sensory details that never fail to take me, in the moment or in memory, where I need to go: sunlit and shadowy paths among the cedars that lead to secret caves and overlooks and wildflowers and cemeteries; the sound of horses and carriages going by, especially after dark and pre-dawn; the lonesome ringing of the buoy off Mission Point; the first boat horn of the morning and the wake behind the last departure at night; meandering walks down side streets and up on the bluffs with their rambling houses and sweeping porches where I dream I live; the waves always seeming to kick up at sunrise or sunset and the strong sense of everything older, wiser, both harsher and more tender.
Making that list reminds me that I recently asked my students to jot down everything they saw/felt/thought/etc for even a short period of time. The lists were amazing! So much good noticing; so many moods; plenty of material.
Like I often say, when you’re writing, look down, look up and out, look back, look ahead. The poem is right there, in your hands, your lap, the room around you; it’s just beyond the window — look, listen; it’s in the past, where we all tend to go; and it’s in the future, in hopes and fears, in the unknown.
For me, being on Mackinac is always a powerful reminder of just how to true this is: my surroundings evocative, past and present and future all caught up.
(If anyone knows of a good “fall asleep to the sound of waves and a buoy,” let me know. So far, all the waves I’ve found are too-loud for sleeping.)
Ok, enough waiting, it’s time for cake.
Many years ago, I was asked about my “claim to fame” as a teacher, and I still think about this question quite often. I hope my claim to fame is not only that I like to bake for my students, but, on the other hand, sometimes the nourishment is literal.
So here are some Halloween chocolate cupcakes with ghost and bat doodads, naturally. The recipe is the classic Hershey’s recipe, found at Recipe Tin Eats. I wish I had made more buttercream so I could have had really towering cupcakes, but perhaps then they wouldn’t have fit into my nifty new double-decker cupcake carrier.
Finally, Halloween seems like a good time to talk about mystery in poetry. We love it, of course, until we don’t. My thought is this: don’t tell us less than you know. The mystery begins beyond that. Don’t poem-it-up. Cleverness doesn’t help us. The best poets are trustworthy guides.
Thanks for reading! Happy Halloween-ing and walking and writing and baking! Next up: November, one of my favorite months. Stay tuned! Take good care.