Big Night In The Canyon

gnome

We had three trick or treaters on Halloween night, one of whom was a blue-eyed baby garden gnome with a long white beard, hand-carried by his bearded father. Dorothy was there too, in her checked gingham dress and ruby red shoes, which she clicked upon request. The grim reaper stood shyly in the shadows.

Not much happens in these parts, and this visit from our new neighbors was a highlight. They pulled up in an old pick-up truck, and Monte and I were waiting for them eagerly, playing scary music, dimming the lights, ready to greet them at the door shining flashlights on our faces, illuminating our already-spooky wrinkles and droops. We let them scoop up heaps of candy since we knew there'd be no other visitors, and then urged them to take more. We snapped a few pictures and watched Dorothy click her heels, and I think they went home happy.

If we are stranded here during El Niño days ahead, we'll all have to help each other. Storms and washed out crossings seem to promote community and inspire cooperation. But we've hit the jackpot in our neighborhood. Not only are the new ones young and strong and genuinely nice, they are also the kind of people who grow vegetable gardens and make preserves and probably have canned soup in the cupboard and a butchered grass-fed cow in the freezer.  Not sure what we elders have to offer. Maybe a story or two.