Every year I read this book on October 30th and 31st.

Nothing else I've ever read truly captures what Halloween has always meant to me. In 145 pages of gorgeous poetic prose, peppered with truly iconic illustration, Bradbury creates not really a story for kids but a story in the name of, in the praise of childhood. A true piece of culture, a myth. A romantic myth that can stand beside Whitman, Wordsworth, and Emmerson. Bradbury really portrays the philosophy of the romantics by painting childhood as the time when we are most in tune with the grand cosmic forces at work in the world. And how, unfortunately, the rite of passage in our culture, becoming an adult, means giving up that awarness, embracing a system of disconection. It's all whispered under the thick rich layers of juxtaposition: summer and autumn, night and day, life and death, beauty and horror. It really does have the makings of a classic joseph campbell style heroic journey: boys leave civilization behind and in the wilderness they meet with death and grapple with it, come to terms with it, and in those terms is the understanding that on one hand there is the tragedy of mortality but the other hand is the solace of compassion and friendship and selflessness and within those values is eternity. because those values are the uniquely human contribution to the awe and beauty of nature, of the universe.

Just truly a gorgeous work.

Well stated and what a gorgeous metaphor. I am now familiar with the nature of the story here, although not having the book myself in my collection. Another favorite is I Sing The Body Electric!