Trigger warning: I will be talking about death.

It felt appropriate to wait until nightfall for this part.

I know today as Halloween, as the beginning of the Day of the Dead, or as Samhain (at least in the evening). All of those, I suppose. That won’t be the same for everyone, of course, but it colors my perception, and I expect some of you have similar associations.

I think about death a lot. Not, like, in a doom-and-gloom sort of way (though sometimes that’s the case), nor in quite the way I did as a club-going goth kid decades ago. But I am fascinated by its inevitability and its impact, and the eternal mystery it poses. And I do think about all those people and animals I’ve loved who are no longer around.

The idea of revisiting lost ones, welcoming their spirits, sharing in their memories…it appeals to me a lot. I wouldn’t call myself religious, but I do consider myself deeply spiritual. I do think there’s some kind of power to us that resonates in ways we cannot currently explain.

Tonight, inevitably–for me–the ghosts return. I think about the people and animals I don’t get to see in the flesh anymore, but who sometimes visit me when I’m remembering old times, or when I’m dreaming, or when I’m walking in spaces they inhabited, or hearing phrases they often said, or experiencing art that was dear to them. They haunt those places, and it’s always thrilled me a bit that I can still find them there–briefly, if I’m not trying too hard.

It’s easier today, probably because the deep, cultural expectation is there already. We’re more open to the strange and inexplicable, especially regarding death (which we so often shy away from at other times). Far from being something to regard as scary, I think it’s nice to hold a little space for them. A subtle invitation. If they feel like making the visit, anyway.

If you feel up to the experience, I hope you’ll welcome them with me. Whether that’s by letting yourself become quiet when the light recedes and giving them space to inhabit your surroundings, or with a more lively celebration inviting them to live again in your remembered stories. Maybe you have your own rituals.

Though I am far from my home, I’ll share with you this tree outside the place I’m staying. There are many like it here in Florida, all around, and I find them haunting, in a lovely sort of way. Their innate cobweb-like vegetation, the tendency for their branches to droop and hang… I think they’re perfect for tonight.