All Hallow’s Eve, a time of magic. Some rebuke this idea. But how can they, truly?
Listen! Can you not hear the quiet laughter of magic in the quick rustle of the leaves as they race and tumble along the ground? Listen long enough, my friends, and soon you will hear a dry cackle.
Can you not feel the velvety coolness of the night air brushing past you? Stand still long enough, my friends, and you will swear that you felt a cold hand upon your own.
Do you not feel something dark in the shadows, just out of sight? Stare into the blackness long enough, my friends, and you’ll feel certain that a black cat is staring back at you.
Look up into the trees! Do you not see the large, dark, amber eyes of the owl? Stand there and look for too long, my friends, and you will see the knowledge with which it studies you.
The stars–they are all around you, prickling you with the same light of thousands of years past. Observe them for too long, my friends, and you’ll see that they’re observing you; adding the knowledge of what they find to the stores of mysterious secrets held through the ages.
Caught up in all of this, you hear the voice of one passing stranger calling out to another. But was it, really? The more you think on it, my friends, the more certain you’ll become that it was the voice, not of a stranger, but of one from the distant past, long since gone.
There is a special magic in all of these things, just as there is magic in the silent dust of sacred books not opened in recent years; the orange glow coming from the jack o lantern on the nearest step, which seems to flicker mischievously with more than just light; or the silence of the graveyard under the full, golden, harvest moon.
Your spine begins to tingle as you are snapped abruptly out of this discomposing reverie by a group of passing children. Listen! Can you not hear the sounds of their laughter being carried back to you on the night air? Listen long enough, my friends, and you will find that they are laughing at your disbelief in magic.”