October is upon us this week and I’m excited for “spooky” season. The mornings have been wrapped in misty fog and I’ve had an early visitor call me from the trees.
On Monday morning, around 5:30am I was doing yoga by candlelight with the sliding glass door wide open for crisp air to flow in when I heard it- a shrill squawk in the dark pre-dawn that stopped me in my tracks.
What soon followed was a hooo hooo hooo. So naturally I ran to get my phone and open my favorite bird app (picture bird) to record it and tell me what kind of owl was outside and it was a great horned owl. It’s the first time I’ve heard an owl hooting (and squawking) from the trees outside my home and it felt like I won a lottery. Every morning since then I’ve heard her somewhere in the vicinity.
Here’s a video I took of the sound (black because it was dark outside)-
It’s the time of year when the trees in my town get trimmed before the winter winds so I suspect her home may have been chopped down somewhere but oh how I hope she stays near!
For the past year I’ve been trying to befriend the crows outside and there’s one that’s finally showing signs of becoming besties (lol). I named him Edgar, of course, and feed him and his friend peanuts every morning. They watch for me when I got outside and the other day I was cleaning out my car and Edgar stood on the light post next to my car and watched the whole time.
I chose to believe we were bonding and he wasn’t just begging for peanuts :)
Anyway, to now have a crow friend and an owl to share my mornings with, it’s almost like I’ve ascended life ranks and what a perfect time of year to do so.
Poetry and Paintings
This painting reminds me of Agatha Christie’s Hallowe’en Party and A Haunting in Venice. It also reminds me of the show I’m watching, A Discovery of Witches, mentioned in my last post.
When you think of Impressionist paintings, a lot of spring and summer themes likely come to mind. Spring especially was a dream of a season for the Impressionists, but the autumn and winter lent some great inspiration to the painters as well.
I thought it would be fun to come up with some painting and poem pairings for this post to welcome in October and the thinning of the veil.
For Street in Venice above, I feel like it pairs well with this poem by Emily Dickinson.
Because I could not stop for death -
Because I could not stop for Death –
He kindly stopped for me –
The Carriage held but just Ourselves –
And Immortality.
We slowly drove – He knew no haste
And I had put away
My labor and my leisure too,
For His Civility –
We passed the School, where Children strove
At Recess – in the Ring –
We passed the Fields of Gazing Grain –
We passed the Setting Sun –
Or rather – He passed Us –
The Dews drew quivering and Chill –
For only Gossamer, my Gown –
My Tippet – only Tulle –
We paused before a House that seemed
A Swelling of the Ground –
The Roof was scarcely visible –
The Cornice – in the Ground –
Since then – 'tis Centuries – and yet
Feels shorter than the Day
I first surmised the Horses' Heads
Were toward Eternity –
This video with the poem read aloud is lovely and worth the watch.
These look like they were made for each other. The painting also kind of reminds me of Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier. Can you see it?
Phantom
All look and likeness caught from earth,
All accident of kin and birth,
Had passed away. There was no trace
Of aught on that illuminated face,
Uprais’d beneath the rifted stone
But of one spirit all her own; —
She, she herself, and only she,
Shone through her body visibly.
-Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Here’s a portion of The Raven that goes with the illustration above - I had to include this one.
The Raven
Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
“Surely,” said I, “surely that is something at my window lattice;
Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore—
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore;—
’Tis the wind and nothing more!”
Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately Raven of the saintly days of yore;
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door—
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door—
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.
Read The Raven in its entirety here. I memorized this poem in my pre-teen years and while it has since escaped me, I have fond memories pacing my room spouting stanzas.
Windy Nights
Whenever the moon and stars are set,
Whenever the wind is high,
All night long in the dark and wet,
A man goes riding by.
Late in the night when the fires are out,
Why does he gallop and gallop about?
Whenever the trees are crying aloud,
And ships are tossed at sea,
By, on the highway, low and loud,
By at the gallop goes he.
By at the gallop he goes, and then
By he comes back at the gallop again.
-Robert Louis Stevenson
Spellbound
The night is darkening round me,
The wild winds coldly blow;
But a tyrant spell has bound me
And I cannot, cannot go.
The giant trees are bending
Their bare boughs weighed with snow.
And the storm is fast descending,
And yet I cannot go.
Clouds beyond clouds above me,
Wastes beyond wastes below;
But nothing drear can move me;
I will not, cannot go.
-Emily Brontë
If you’re looking for a little book of spooky poetry- Phantom, Windy Nights and Spellbound were poems I found in my copy of Poems Bewitched and Haunted. It’s from the Everyman’s pocket library series and a fun read each October. There are a couple other pocket library books that look like they need to join my collection this autumn, particularly Spellbound and Poems Dead and Undead.
Do you have any favorite spooky poems or paintings? I found so many great ones that I couldn’t include this time so maybe we can go for another round soon.
x,
Courtney
I am currently reading Hallowe'en Party! 🎃