Leftover Candy and a Little Wren

It was time to take the basket of candy to the front porch, just before the sun set. An angry Carolina Wren had a screaming fit in a nearby Crepe Myrtle, reminding me it was bedtime! If you have been reading here for a while, you’ll understand how delighted I am to have a little Wren visiting.

Happy to accommodate, I moved my trick-or-treat post off the porch to the bottom step so my overnight guest could rest. My new giving-candy spot is a better place for kids and parents since our driveway is steep and there are nine steps leading to the front door. Running children are a risk for casualties, especially when they’re on a sugar-high, and Chloe and Bella could relax, too. I saw the Wren flap into its homemade nest. Good.

For two hours, I sat on the bottom step and had fewer visitors than ever before. With Dads as escorts, sweet kids arrived in groups, or alone. A few parents arrived that made me laugh or wince in wonder as one Dad wore a grass skirt and coconuts on his breasts. Yep. There were the screamer kids… “Trick or Treat!” that pierced my eardrums, there were greedy little kids who dipped into my basket with those cute little dimpled knuckles to grab handfuls of their favorite candy (not without a lesson in manners from me), there were teen-aged kids wearing pathetic costumes who belonged at home giving candy or at a party instead, and there were children I wanted to hug, too.

During the quiet times, I leaned against the porch rail and remembered my own childhood Halloweens in the city. We wore homemade costumes often that were indescribably weird and we carried large paper bags, unlike the sparkly lighted pumpkins I saw last night. We didn’t wear lighted shoes or fake hair, nor did we have those grotesque masks. We made up our own faces with old make-up found in Mom's bedroom. My parents couldn’t afford store-bought costumes every year and I remember the year I collected treats dressed as a cocoon. My brother wore a store-bought “Casper the Friendly Ghost” costume once and I have a photo of him somewhere… At 6pm, our parents opened the starting gate and said, “Go! Be home by 8:30!” And we were home on time with loads of sugary treats from two hundred city rowhomes. We didn’t have adult escorts but our loot was examined closely that night for life threatening treats like razor blades in apples. Can you imagine setting your kids free on Halloween night without cell phones?

It became quiet in the neighborhood so I climbed the steps to the porch. I smiled while recalling Gina’s giggles during Halloween prep for so many years in the 80’s and 90’s. The green face paint for her first witch costume, the clown, the punk rocker, the French maid, the New Kids on the Block outfit, and the black cat. Her silly childhood friends and their Moms and Dads, our good friends who are now far away, made my memories so sweet.

I practiced night photography and remembered my delight in scaring little children enough to send them running to the first set of adult legs they could find :o) I love masks.

Distant, echoed voices could be heard in the neighborhood,

Are you ready for the haunted house, guys?

Have a good night! See ya later…

Good luck in soccer tomorrow…

Quietly, I replied to all I don’t know, “Yes, have a good night…”.

Halloweens past I missed last night, but I’m glad to have lots of leftover candy and that Carolina Wren tail feather in view.