Halloween Head

I have an old, wooden picnic table in my backyard. The origins of the table are somewhat interesting. It's a hand-me-down from a friend who got it from his parents. This friend has played a key, minor role in my life as keeper, purveyor and mover of significant furniture (Megan's, Michael's, Megan's again, Michael's again).

The table has been the site of many activities at our Longmont house - new feats by Asher and Harper in jumping and climbing; private and deep conversations; games and good beer and wine; family gatherings; and cookouts, brunches and low country boils with friends who are closer now than they used to be, who moved away, who turned out to be quite anathema to our family's first home, who have been part of the joy and pain of the last year or so. The table is a lovely gray and well used. This year, the wood on one of the benches had to be replaced.

Last Friday, after a movie, I got home around ten o'clock and said goodbye to our babysitter, Hannah. I asked her how she was feeling with the news that our church is closing, the last service being Easter. Her dad is the pastor, and, though we've been through the shock of this before, she is sad about many parts of the loss and worried about her brothers and friends.

After she left, I was uninterested in television or reading, teamed up with emotion and no way to relieve them. I went outside in the 40 degree weather and laid on the old picnic table. It was under the leafless silver maple that umbrellas our backyard. Above, the sky held the glow of snow clouds so that the dark tree branches were silhouetted against the sky. I could make out the leaf buds.

And there I lay, letting my mind wander over the evening, over emotions, over the history the table had been a part of, over the tree branches like I was on a road trip, just watching what was over the next hill. I listened to the few cars on Francis Street. I pulled out my iPod and listened repeatedly to Ryan Adam's "Halloween Head," musing on the idea of a head full of tricks treats.

Calm, high on new found strength in riding out my emotions without having to take rash action, loving the piece of time I carved out just to mentally relax, I went back in the house, took a shower, and went to bed.