Jersey Shore Magazine

Home Port Autumn Rebirth by Christine Menapace N j e r s e y s h o r e • F a l l / H o l i d a y 2 0 1 3 Sean McAuliffe ature believes you should have your babies in the haul? The year the pillowcase was so heavy, so stuffed with spring. But my body believed differently. Two chilgoodies, you could barely drag it from house to house? dren: one born at the end of September, the other at the And the costumes! Discovering how grossly wet your own beginning of November. I'm not surprised. I have always breath is when trapped under a plastic mask. Bumping loved autumn. The subtle spice of pumpkin soup, the into things because you have no peripheral vision and/or warmth of a sweater, the hot steam of vanilla tea, and the mobility. Standing for seeming hours as hair is tugged and peaceful quietude of a beach devoid of tourists. Even the pulled into two tight Princess Leia coils. Nearly suffocatfall palette of crimson, orange, and brown has a deep, rich ing while bobbing for apples because how the hell do you and timeless appeal. It makes the pastels of spring seem hold your breath and open your mouth at the same time?! silly and frivolous by comparison. And now your Tiger makeup is ruined anyway! Yet despite No, fall is not known everything, it is all glorifor birth. Instead, it is ously wonderful and fun a time of slow decline, and emblazoned in your a readying for death, or childhood story forever. at least a long slumber The heightened memounder the frozen stasis of ries and excitement of winter. And yet, nature Halloween are somehas other, more subtle thing you never want to rhythms known only to let go of. those of us who dwell So you don't. You attend by the sea. We know the adult Halloween parties shift in seasons is often where the donning of a bittersweet respite from costumes accompanies the dizzying light and the shedding of inhiheat of summer, the first bitions, sometimes to cool bite in the air like awesome, sometimes to a deep collective sigh of regrettable effect. relief. We have permis Then come your own sion to relax, to close up children and each shop, to move inward, Halloween carries its The author's son at the Asbury Park Zombie Walk. to move inland. It is our own badge depending on own emergence from the sea, our own kind of rebirth. An their age. My son, one month old, wearing a pumpkin hat autumn rebirth. and Halloween sleeper as we take him out to "pick" his Ocean waves that held our gaze all summer long are first pumpkin. The second year stuffing him into a giant replaced by undulating rows of golden yellow corn. As we bug costume that we loved and he hated. The third year turn inland, we find ripening fields of crisp apples and watching him throw up all over his Spider-Man costume. jaunty pumpkins awaiting us. There is apple cider and The fourth year, a final day of pregnancy before I am cider donuts and caramel apples and apple pie. There is induced with my second child. pumpkin pie and pumpkin soup and pumpkin coffee and Of all these Halloween memories, one forever stands roasted pumpkin seeds. There are corn mazes and hayrides out now for myself and indeed, for the entire Jersey coast: and endless rounded mounds of colorful mums. There is a 2012. It is October 29th and my whole family, including renewed energy to it all. the dog, is huddled in our bed listening to the wind rage Children, after countless days of sunscreen and fireflies outside. The angry, surging bay is just a few blocks away in and salty air, are now focused on pencil cases and lunch our waterfront town. We have lost power and will not see boxes. Neighborhoods dulled by the tick, tick, tick of a it again until twelve days later. Halloween this year will be sprinkler and the incessant buzz of cicadas are filled again spent, quite appropriately, in the dark. Rumors abound as with the busyness of children wearing backpacks. to whether or not trick-or-treating should and even "can" And naturally, Halloween is right around the corner! take place. The actual 31st comes and goes with little note. What to be? What to be? Superman? Cinderella? A zombie? My children complain about the lack of candy, and I drive The anticipation of candy and costumes brings a palpable them just a mile away to the devastated town of Union electricity to the air, and children bounce around like Beach. They stop complaining—temporarily. continued on page 88 superballs. For who cannot remember their biggest candy 98

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