It was like a breath of fresh air, the golden October. Cider mills started whistling again in the countryside, crushing and grinding the fresh apples and turning them into the magical elixir for the crisp, golden season at the hand. Pumpkin patches were bejeweled with ripe, bright tangerine winter squashes and a crowd of locals swarmed in by noon to get their hands on the best one.
People were wide opening the windows of their homes to let the soft, cool breeze sneak into their cozy nooks, humming a welcoming song for the jolly Fall. The smoke emanating from the chimneys of baked bricks diffused into the autumnal sky, an intermingling aroma of fresh pumpkin pies, creamy baked potatoes, stuffed turkey, cauliflower broth, warm cider, and greasy ratatouille.
Indeed it was the best time to fall in love with all the worldly creations, a time to sit back and relax. A time so magical where the sky deemed ethereal as if a million diamonds were crushed to form the shining golden horizon under which the lilac moors staged the enigmatic dance of cotton grass.
October was there, and all the calendars on the walls were marked, radios were taken out of the dusty racks and put up on the window sills, playing ‘burn witch burn’ by Molle Mystery Theater. The libraries were replacing their aesthetic window displays with gothic fiction like Dracula, Frankenstein, Coraline, and The Graveyard Book. Gardens and pathways in the greens were covered with the crunching leaves in hues of yellow and gold and where mere a crackle of the crisp fallen leaf could brighten up the day of several lovers taking a stroll in the nearby parks. Staircases in front of the red doors were made festive using the pumpkin peels carved in the shape of jack-o-lantern, stuffed with glimmering candles and twinkling fairy lights.
“October, baptize me with leaves! Swaddle me in corduroy and nurse me with split pea soup. October, tuck tiny candy bars in my pockets and carve my smile into a thousand pumpkins. O autumn! O teakettle! O grace!”
Families sitting together in their comfy couches, bursting into laughter as they take their sweaters and stockings out of the winter trunks while sipping on the freshly brewed cocoa from the steaming kettle that is still whistling in the kitchen. Incense candles were flickering dimly into the dark rooms, dispersing the aroma of cinnamon, pumpkin spice, and the dewy fir as the autumnal sky grew darker and the night of first October grew colder. In a world full of magical Octobers like these, what else could a man possibly desire?
“I’m so glad I live in a world where there are Octobers.” ―