The spookiest time of the year is here. The Chicago Botanic Garden's Night of 10,000 Jack-o'-Lanterns is coming. Such a fun event, seeing pumpkin carvers and strolling through the grounds, lit by all those pumpkins. How do you plan to celebrate?
If you're looking for something to read to put you in a Halloween mood, download short story collection, Relatives and Relationships. One of the stories,"It's Just a Guise," is all about how Halloween is celebrated in Scotland, Or pickup a copy of Dead in the Alley, , set in a Michigan October with the climax at Halloween.
October is my favorite month, maybe because I was born in October. I love pumpkins, gingerbread, and opals. No bad luck for me. It's also the start of hockey season, so what's not to like?
Let's celebrate with a favorite song of mine, written and sung by Francis Cabrel. It's in French but I have included the lyrics in English. His voice is great, so please give him a listen.
October
The branches will creak in the wind, the mist will come in its white dress. Everywhere the leaves will lie on the stones. October will grasp its revenge. The sun will barely show up. Our bodies will hide under bits of wool. Burried in your shawls in the evening you will walk past October asleep near the fountains. Surely some empty vases will be seen abandonned on tin tables and some clouds caught in the aerials. I will offer you flowers and colorful tableclothes to escape October's grasp. We will climb high on the hills and behold all what's lit up by October. My hands on your hair, sharing the same scarves in front of the surrendering world. Surely on some benches some old men will sit and remember and the clouds caught in the aerials. I will offer you flowers and colorful tableclothes to escape October's grasp And surely some drawings will appear on the misted windows. You will play outside like the children from the north, maybe October will linger. You will play outside like the children from the north, maybe October will linger.
Octobre
Le vent fera craquer les branches La brume viendra dans sa robe blanche Y aura des feuilles partout Couchées sur les cailloux Octobre tiendra sa revanche Le soleil sortira à peine Nos corps se cacheront sous des bouts de laine Perdue dans tes foulards Tu croiseras le soir Octobre endormi aux fontaines Il y aura certainement, Sur les tables en fer blanc Quelques vases vides et qui traînent Et des nuages pris aux antennes Je t'offrirai des fleurs Et des nappes en couleurs Pour ne pas qu'Octobre nous prenne On ira tout en haut des collines Regarder tout ce qu'Octobre illumine Mes mains sur tes cheveux Des écharpes pour deux Devant le monde qui s'incline Certainement appuyés sur des bancs Il y aura quelques hommes qui se souviennent Et des nuages pris aux antennes Je t'offrirai des fleurs Et des nappes en couleurs Pour ne pas qu'Octobre nous prenne Et sans doute on verra apparaître Quelques dessins sur la buée des fenêtres Vous, vous jouerez dehors Comme les enfants du nord Octobre restera peut-être. Vous, vous jouerez dehors Comme les enfants du nord Octobre restera peut-être.
Copyright: Francis Cabrel