Before that, I was manning the front door with a bowl of candy as the younger set made the rounds. A three-year-old Dracula with tomato juice smeared over his chin took his candy and then politely said, "Thank you vewwy much." A little kid who came up to my waist but was twice as wide as me, wrapped in a rotund yellow-and-black striped barrel of a costume, identified him or herself - it was hard to tell what was beneath that wrapping - as "I'm a little bumblebee!" A young father with a long-suffering look on his face was dragging around a little red cart with two little girls in it, both bewinged. One said to me brightly as I opened the door, "I'm a FAIRY!" The other one erupted, "You're a BUTTERFLY! I'm a FAIRY!" By the looks of the expression on the father's face this charade had repeated itself before every door on which they had knocked - and I could see him getting back home with his progeny and saying to his wife, "Honey, if anyone suggests a costume with wings next year, please shoot me first."
Tonight... nobody. Not a soul. All quiet on the Pacific Northwestern front, as it were. It's damp and cool outside but I don't think it was actually raining - and we had the porch light on and the candy ready - but not a knock on the door there came. It's now probably too late for them - in a couple of hours it'll be a whole new month.
And speaking of that - this afternoon I drove out to do a small errand or two. The trees are bare, or are shaking down the last of their finery - goodbye, golden October. Hello, November.