The seasons are transitioning, slowly and unpredictably, from late summer to early autumn. Erik, our “wonderful, soon to be” son-in-law, is nearly finished putting in our winter garden. Being from Massachusetts, he is new at this and is absorbing each twist and turn through the random Louisiana weather and unfamiliar environment with wonderment and pure joy. He is learning about the erratic seasons here; how winter turns to summer and suddenly back again and how we seamlessly take out our gumbo pots when the cool snap makes it down past I-10, then put them away again when the warm breezes roll in from the Gulf, and then repeat until spring; that’s how it works “down here.”

We will, hopefully and ultimately, have a bounty of cruciferous vegetables for soups and savor and an abundance of root crops for safe winter keeping in the pantry and for extensive keeping in mason jars filled with pickling spices and vinegar.

I love the gifts the earth provides with a bit of toil and trouble from planting and nourishing.

And, when winter is over, we hope to harvest onions and garlic.

“When winter is over”… How probing is this statement? What will be when winter is over? Who will we become by then? Will the virus continue to prevail, who will be our president, will some still be at odds with one another? It all seems so unknown, like a cloud of uncertainty that hangs there close enough to touch while somewhat hesitant to enter. Time will tell …

Speaking of scary, Halloween is on the night the Full Hunter’s Moon rises, the second in October, therefore, a Blue Moon. I wish for a minute I was a kid trick-or-treating and searching for the magic that this night will create, looking in shadows, searching for sounds that may be mystical as the moon watches and we hear the distant howls and hoots of wild animals.

I remember those far away nights, nights filled with childhood wonder, knowing my small world was safe but still thinking anything could happen during this particular October night, a night of make believe goblins and sugary treats. I hope you have a spooky Halloween and I hope you and I find a way to notice and embrace more of the “treats” we all have than the “tricks” we are sometimes faced with. I close with a tribute to yet another lost childhood tradition, the airing of the Peanuts series. Like all of you, I abound with fifty plus years of memories. I was a child when it first played on national TV in 1964. My imagination soared as I sat on our gold Naugahyde sofa with my little sister, Susan, as we became “friends” with Charlie Brown and his entourage. Then, when I had children of my own, my mom or dad would always call with a reminder that Charlie and his crew would be on at 7 o’clock. Homework or whatever we were doing was put aside and we sat and watched, for how could it be Halloween without them? I am sad and I wish they could stay.

Anyway, thanks for the memories, thanks for inserting purity into my childhood and that of my children and thank you for tapping into our imaginations. Lastly, thank you Charlie Brown for this timely advice from your good buddy Linus, “I’ve learned there are 3 things never to discuss with people: religion, politics, and the Great Pumpkin.” Good bye Charlie Brown.

PAM SHENSKY is a wife and mom to five.