Quite the Halloween we had here.

The weather was perfect — neither too cold nor too warm, and the anticipated rain never appeared. As a consequence we served what I think was a record number of trick-or-treaters before lights out, around 9 p.m.

All manner of Burqueños rang our doorbell — young and old and in between, costumes ranging from casual to wildly elaborate, the mood celebratory throughout. Not at all the sort of mob one has to run from.

I choose to see it as an omen. A bunch of strangers sharing a moment, however briefly. See, it can be done. May the spirit endure.

We may yet get a puck in the gob from the gods, who seem intent on flogging us with a windy, watery cat-o’-nine-tails. It would be swell if they took a couple days off — like, through Election Day — but the trees are already dancing a jig so I’m not counting on it. Today may be another running opportunity, and perhaps tomorrow as well.

In any event, I need to get outside for a while. Sundays are when Herself does the serious housecleaning, and like Nature, I abhor a vacuum.