Yesterday I dreaded Halloween and it turned out to be…wonderful. Sometimes small town life is all it’s cracked up to be. Even with a costume that hides his face, our galloping, sword swinging Headless Horseman rode through town in a state of perpetual delight, and was met with friendly shouts of recognition wherever he went from people I would not recognize in broad daylight. The Police closed off and lit a few of the Main Streets in town and  dozens upon dozen of families wandered from house to house, most lit with pumpkins and some fully decked with cobwebs, ghosts and dry ice. The local grange had musicians on the porch along with the bowl of candy and just down the street a woman in a tuxedo shirt and pink wig whose home I have long admired said I should come back and have coffee with her sometime (really, who would say that to someone who showed up at their door on Halloween, and with the Headless Horseman, no less?). And just as we headed back to the car, a full harvest moon rose over the drumlins and floated among wispy clouds – just spooky enough. Happy Halloween. For real.