The day after Halloween always brings with it a bit of melancholy.
Oh, who am I kidding? The blues start to kick in at about the time that more than fifteen or twenty minutes pass without any trick-or-treaters having coming to the door. I look at the time and realize that it's simply too late for the younger kids to be out there.
So, with a forlorn sigh, I step outside, take one last look at the decorated yard, and then unplug the lights, turn off the fun special effects and blow out the candle on the jack o lantern for one more year. The slightly charred smell that the flame has left on the inside of the pumpkin still lingers in an eerily comforting, yet mocking scent.
I feel, perhaps, like Linus when yet another year passes and the Great Pumpkin has taken a pass on his pumpkin patch.
All the talk about ghosts and goblins, the decorating, the pumpkin-carving, the fun, the ghost stories, the costumes, are put aside and packed away for another year.
But, like Linus, my faith is still strong, and I can start counting down the days until next Halloween.