Frost on the pumpkin

There's a circle in our yard around the fire pit. It's melted in the snow. It was formed by the warmth of people brought together in an unseen bond. It is a magic circle.

The circle will melt away, but we'll definitely remember Saturday night. Flakes filled the air until sunrise on Sunday, adding a dash of first-snowstorm excitement to an already-thrilling Samhain sacrifice. We're so pleased that many of you made it here and home again. The storm did have its cloudy side, though. We missed so many faces we've been longing to see.

In the twenty years we've hosted the bonfire, this is the second time it snowed. The first, on Oct. 29, 2005, was a fluffy blitzkrieg that left about an inch shortly before the evening's sacrifice. Boston recorded its deepest October snowstorm that day, 1.1 inches. After last Saturday, we suspect the record from 2005 no longer applies.

We didn't lose power six years ago, but we did this year. The outage lasted more than an hour and yet, even without lights and music, the fun never slowed.

Another notable difference this year affected our pumpkin slaughter. Because of a wet spring, pumpkins were hard to come by locally, so we found a good bargain in butternut squash and led them to the chopping block instead.

We burned Tom C. in effigy this year. You may recognize him from the picture, a tall, friendly guy with a renown for warm hugs. During the past month he took on a lot of the heavy, hazardous work, including two expeditions for firewood and a semi-sober midnight raid on pampas grass. Mrs. Mungo and I decided a year ago that Tom would be the sacrifice. As we watched him help out with the greenman, we knew he was digging his own figurative grave.

So many others contributed to our frosty festivity. Chris and Marcel pitched in hours and hours of yard maintenance, wood cutting, and celebration setup. Alex, son and heir apparent, stepped in as fire tamer and executioner. Mrs. Mungo surpassed herself this year, producing a kitchen loaded wall to wall with mouthwatering magic. (Imagine our home filled with baking aromas in the days before the celebration. And now you know why Mungo always smiles.)

We really want to know what you like the most about our bonfires, and maybe what you like the least. We enjoy getting suggestions for our music playlist. We crave philosophical discussion about what we're trying to accomplish besides just burning stuff. Please send us your ideas and questions by email or leave a comment here.

Mrs. Mungo and I hope to show up at Putnam's First Friday, November 4. Uh, weather permitting, of course. If you missed the fire, we'd love to see you there.