A Rambling Harbor Halloween
The month of Halloween is wrapped around us, and All Hallow’s Eve is creeping closer and closer and… well, you get it. It’s constantly, creepily creeping, as is the fog off the ocean and in from the bogs near where I live. In this the land of witches, the mind is easily nudged into roaming deeper and deeper into the far and foggiest realms of one's imagination.
Last week, I wrote about the four headless horsemen of the apocalypse who had come back after 250 years to bring fire and brimstone—and grand entertainment—to the world, and how Ichabod Crane, cranium reunited, tried to stop evil by following clues from the founding fathers of the United States. I speculated on the possibility that some members of congress could be demons returning from the past, seeking to destroy the world and the evil-fighting spirits like Ich or the few remaining good congress people—we are not yet sure who they are—trying to stop them.
In last week’s Sleep Hollow, Ichabod Crane and detective Abbie Mills were trying to find a secret magic box, and so were the bad guys. This magic box contained a book with a ritual that when performed would release demons and help the bad guys win the war and have supernatural powers. The Tea Party of 1773 was a hoax, a diversion. Some things never change, but more on that in the podcast.
It is a known historical fact that at some point during World War II the chief architect and manager of the Nazi Holocaust, Heinrich Himmler, made secret visits to Spain in search of the Holy Grail, believing that its power would not only help him win the war but give him supernatural powers as well. Squads of S.S. men searched in vain for the grail. The Nazi empire committed evil beyond a human's ability to understand, a tangible, touchable type of evil, unlike any sci-fi movie or TV show.
Writers and poets have often wondered if art imitates life or the other way around. Oscar Wilde believed that life imitated art and he once wrote, “Although there has been fog in London for centuries, one notices the beauty and wonder of the fog because poets and painters have taught the loveliness of such effects.... They did not exist until Art had invented them." If Sleepy Hollow is art, will life begin to imitate it? Or has it already? (Bring up eerie music)
Come into Rambling Harbor and my cabin, bordering the Atlantic Ocean on one side and the bogs on the other. I have a wide-open view of the night sky from my windows and see the moon on its western journey, sometimes like the Highway Man tossed up on stormy seas, and wonderful creepy, foggy dawns with the chorus of seagulls cawing good morning and coyotes howling good night.