Autumn Cemeteries and Ghosts

An old man for some time now, every autumn as Halloween creeps nigh I am summoned to drive the old back-way forty miles to Garrett, whence first I came, for... to... because... I truly know not... except to perambulate the old neighborhoods, streets, alleys, parks, and cemeteries, a witness to bygone years, forgotten souls, and haunts - and a witness to the uncomprehending present, blinded by one thousand and one mundane distractions.

And so it was today - a brilliant, luminous, transcendent day as never before! Ineffable, eternal flashes never to be forgotten.

Approaching my own headstone in the distance of towering maple canopies, a long, lusty squall of autumnal winds spawn ten thousand brilliant yellow and orange once-leaves, now leaf-ghosts, in the early evening cemetery sky... Prelude to blanketing a thousand graves and their Garrett ghosts, as winter looms...