...is what this is. It's now 5:52 AM (Pacific Standard Time), October 30, 2000 CE. The candles glow in the corners of my living room, and it's still pitch black outside. I'm listening to the Mediaeval Baebes, drinking a cider, and pretending I don't have class in four hours.

There's a strange sensation to the month of October. There is a crackle of energy in the air even as the leaves go grey-brown with death above us. The spiritual among us claim that this month competes with May and July for magical significance. The feeling is so strong that even the mundane have noticed it.

There is the brilliance of moonlight through the fog, and a warm-dry chill in the air that is so opposite of spring. There's a feeling of danger and dark, as the Things in the back of our minds come out to play. There is the skeletal fingers of bare tree-branches reaching for stars that make one cry for love of their brilliance. There is the opening of the Way for the Unseelie Court; there is the masked celebration of Hallowe'en and All Saint's Day and oft-mispronounced Samhain. There are parties against the darkness.

I used to hate fall. Now, perhaps, I begin to understand.