Despues Del Dia De Los Muertos

 When I was growing up, this day—the one after Halloween—was known as All Saints’ Day.  

Then again, I was taught by Italian-American relatives and Irish and Irish-American nuns.  As hard as this may be to fathom, especially if you are, ahem, young enough to be a child I’ll never have, there weren’t any Mexicans in our neighborhood in the heart of Brooklyn. So I didn’t know about Dia de Los Muertos—the Day of the Dead—until I was well into adulthood.

So, today, in addition to enjoying nachos, I will celebrate this day by relishing the irony of some imagery I’ve seen.

Some people cycle to improve their health and prolong their lives. Perhaps the above image shows that it’s a good plan—or that some of us will never stop cycling!

On Wheels or Paws

Happy Halloween!

I have had six cats, including Marlee, in my life.   I love Marlee and miss the other five.  Each was beautiful and sweet in his/her own way.  

I must admit, however, that I've never had a black cat.  It's not a matter of fear or superstition:  All of my feline friends, except for the first Charlie, were rescues.  And he was part of a litter of kittens born to the cat of someone with whom I was taking a class.  So, in a sense, he, like the others, found his way into my life.

One of my few regrets is that I've never figured out how to ride with a cat.  Oh, when the first Charlie and Marlee were kittens, I could have carried them in a knapsack or something, but I'm not sure they would have liked it.  In a way, that might have been a good thing:  Having Caterina, Charlie I, Candice, Charlie II, Max or Marlee home while I was out--whether for a spin around the neighborhood, a day trip or a longer trek--gave me something to look forward to at the end of a ride.

Still, I wonder, what would it have been like to have one of them--or a black cat--on a ride with me?

 

One Ride, Two Trees

 Saturday brought near-record warmth: When I reached Greenwich, Connecticut—the destination or turnaround point, depending on your point of view—early in the afternoon, the temperature had risen to 81F (27C).  That is more or less normal for a day in June, or perhaps just after Labor Day.

Even if I hadn’t known it was near the end of October, the day’s warmth would have seemed incongruous with parents chaperoning their costumed kids to tables representing everything from the fire department to the local Democratic Party where volunteers gave them miniature candy bars. Tomorrow is Halloween, so the past weekend became the setting for Trick or Treaters, parades and parties.

Even stranger was seeing mid-to-late Fall foliage simmering in such heat.  On my way back, a tree in New Rochelle blazed, it seemed, as much from the summer-like air as the season itself.

How red can a tree be?

Now I wonder what it looks like today.  Some time around midnight, a storm pushed its way in.  The temperature plummeted and the rain and wind that soaked and strafed Sunday’s sky—and denuded the golden tree that greeted me early Thursday morning.