Some months pass quietly—but October lingers, glowing with memory, magic, and the warmth of home.
The Quiet Gift of Autumn’s Return
I love October. There’s something about this month that feels like coming home. The leaves shift from summer’s green to a fiery mosaic of gold, amber, and crimson. They swirl down streets and crunch softly beneath every step. Porches glow with pumpkins and corn stalks, windows flicker with candlelight, and neighborhoods seem to hum with gentle anticipation.
I love the comfort of pulling on a warm sweater as the evenings grow cooler. I enjoy wrapping up in a thick blanket. The air carries the first faint scent of wood smoke and fallen leaves. The gardens slow their rhythm. The soil rests after months of tireless giving. The earth itself seems to exhale—a sigh of contentment before winter’s long sleep. There’s peace in harvesting the last tomatoes. There’s tranquility in gathering the last handfuls of herbs. We savor one final taste of summer before the frost settles in.
A Childhood Revisited Through Pumpkin Light
But October’s beauty runs deeper than the colors and the cold. It reminds me of past celebrations, those experienced and those I simply wished to experience.
I think back to the St. Andrew’s costume party I attended once as a child. I can still picture the warm, crowded gym. The scent of caramel and popcorn filled the air. Laughter echoed between the walls. Though the old school is gone now, torn down years ago, the spirit of that place still lingers.
The party lives on in a new building, but when I returned last year for the first time in three decades—with my own children by my side—it felt as if time hadn’t passed at all. The candy walk, the costume contest, the same spirited laughter—it was all there. Even some of the faces were familiar, now softened by age and framed by parenthood. We smiled at each other knowingly, as if to say, we made it back.
That night reminded me how October can blur the line between past and present, turning nostalgia into something alive again.
The Magic of Living the Dreams We Once Imagined
And of course, there’s Halloween and the magic of trick-or-treating. It is a tradition I always longed for as a child but never had the chance to experience. I used to wonder what it felt like. I imagined the excitement of dressing up. I thought about the sound of other children’s laughter carried on the wind. I dreamt of the thrill of walking house to house, bag full of sweet treasures, under a canopy of stars. For years, it was a wish left unfulfilled, a tiny missing piece of wonder.
Now, through my children, I can finally live that dream. I watch their anticipation as they choose their costumes—a pirate and Tigger—and plan their routes with careful excitement.
The afternoon itself feels electric: porch lights glowing like beacons, leaves scattering under quick footsteps, the calls of “thank you!” trailing off into crisp air. I listen to their candy buckets clink, watch their laughter spill into the darkness, and think of all the years I imagined what this would feel like. In their joy, I see both who I was and who I’ve become: a child rediscovering wonder and a parent guiding it forward.
October, for me, has grown into something sacred—a bridge linking memory and experience, longing and fulfillment. It’s a season that teaches me about cycles, about how endings carry new beginnings quietly within them. Through my children, I relive the magic I once missed, while creating bright new memories all our own.
When the last porch lights flicker out and my children’s footsteps fade into the cool evening, I feel the month settle gently in my heart. October has a way of staying—with its color, its warmth, its echoes of laughter. It lingers like the glow of a jack-o’-lantern long after the candle inside has gone out.
Your turn
What’s your favorite October memory—the one that still feels alive no matter how many years have passed?
Keep the Story Going
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