Little Scary

At least one reader wanted further explanation of the why behind Friday’s image of Mushrooms on a Lawn.  Mis apologias.  Here is the explanation for you all: In Central Arizona most lawns are either half-dead or growing tough, scrubby Bermuda Grass.  A lush lawn of delicate emerald shoots, à la Midwestern lawns, is a strange thing to see in Phoenix.  When I stumbled across a lush lawn that was not only all delicate emerald shoots, but also had mushrooms growing in the middle, in full sun, I was so taken with the bizarre anachronism of it all that I couldn’t not blog a picture.

Now to the day at hand: Halloween!  I simply adore this holiday.  It encompasses so many of my favorite things–pumpkins and dress-up, chocolate and scary stories–all against the backdrop of chilly, dark evenings and fallen leaves.  (So leaves aren’t really falling in the Phoenix area–don’t burst my bubble here).

To celebrate the occasion, I dug out my copy of Roald Dahl’s Book of Ghost Stories.  No slump when it came to putting the scary in his own stories, Dahl chose some very unsettling stories.  I chose to read “W.S.” this morning, which may have been a mistake.  It is the story of a haunted author, and the overall unsettling tone of the story is heightened when the reader is a writer, too.  That I was glad the sun was up by the time I left for the bus stop is proof positive the story was a good one, but all the same I think I’ll try to find Wilde’s “Canterville Ghost” to read before bed tonight instead.

Now your turn, dear readers: who here has read a ghost story that got them jumping at shadows?

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