Death & Chocolate

Death & Chocolate

Halloween brings thoughts

of decay

and the permission to eat


Neringa ripples toward me

as I approach down the slope

of wet leaves.


I want to consumate our movement–

drink her up,

have her take


Neither will do,

so I continue up the road

on this Hallow’s Eve,

sensing the transparency

of the worlds

in my bones

as the air mysteriously moves



mocking the illusion of


With eyes no longer

drawn up

by Autumn’s fiery reds,

my gaze


to the earth–

to her rich

colors of


I cross the veil to

the place and beauty

of my own



while noticing a half-dozen



from the banks

of the pond–



to clear my view.

Turning toward home,

I pass four trunks

huddled together,

branches wrapped around

each other’s



except for lichen,

a soft, sickly green

creeping up each body,


from each limb.

On this dark day of souls

I wonder~

Does the ghost of sweet





like me?

Oct. 31, 2009

Halloween Vermont Style

Halloween Vermont Style

A family of pumpkins on the back porch, photo: Will DeBock

“I really like the houses where we sit down and talk to people.”
Aidan, age 14 (last trick or treat?)

Halloween is a unique experience of community in rural Vermont. Unlike the warp speed of suburban trick-or-treating, there’s lots of downtime (aka. distance) between houses here–either by foot or by car. This took getting used to at first, but my kids were born here so they never knew the difference.

Over the years, I’ve come to treasure this slowed experience, taking cues from my kids, who seemed unfazed by the pace, stopping in at homes to sit and visit, munching on the baked goodies while we talk, and getting acquainted with members of the community we may know only from sight.

Each family has their own highlights for sure. I know that mine loves the bit of walking we do from house to house on our mile-long dirt road, bumping into others in the dark and banding together as we arrive to spend time with neighbors.

Margaret and John’s has been a favorite over the years, and we feel the sting of her loss now.  Jean at the Inn is another highlight–with hot cider for all, and amazing cookies for the kids (they always share …after I beg.)

Rachel and Pieter live way out from the center of town, but their homemade donuts are worth the  drive. Then there’s Gail’s fudge up on the hill, and Megan’s pumpkin seeds and blonde brownies. (We miss her old dog Millie.)

When Kirsten was teaching at the school, she made homemade taffy in her kitchen on her back road; now Liz and Craig share homemade treats there.

Sometimes, there’s a bonfire down North Pond Road; and often a moonlit view from atop Cow Path 40.

On a warmer Hallows Eve, we’d eat dinner in the small cemetery on Fox Road.  Our friend Jesse is there now so we’ll at least stop to leave something at his headstone.

The hardest part of a rural Halloween for me is that we never get many trick-or-treaters ourselves. I love that knock on the door, and the sight of costumed child on my porch whose bag I get to help fill with treats.  Now I bring the treats with me so that I can share them with friends along the way.

Popcorn or candy?” I’ll ask.  The kids take the popcorn.  The adults all want candy.

Kelly Salasin, 2009

ps. Click here for “Candy Capitalism.”