Jack Burns Lives!

It’s Halloween again, a source of woe for fundamentalist Christians and my favorite holiday of the year.

In America, its Gaelic origins and traditions are mostly buried beneath a pile of cheap, plastic crap and mass produced candy, but some people still recognize the more ancient traditions, including honoring the dead.

As a child, I was strangely fascinated by cemeteries, and I’ve probably spent most of my life trying to figure out how to avoid becoming a permanent resident. While I’ve had no success in figuring out how to cheat the grim reaper, I have learned a few things about death, cemeteries and the whole death industry.

I prefer to deal in the facts. What we know. What can be verified. And the facts are as follows.

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Things have been quiet of late. I’ve had little to say. Which is rare for me, because I usually say too much.

Maybe it’s the harvest moon, the changing leaves, the thrill of my favorite pagan festival or the cool, crisp air. Maybe it’s all of those things. But typing on a keyboard hasn’t been a priority this October.

I’ve been outside, spending time in the garden, walking along the river, spending time in Fayetteville, Arkansas, and today I ventured over to Shelby Farms and enjoyed a nice walk through one of the remaining, green, open spaces we have in Shelby County.

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