The Order Of The Halloween Tree

A photo series tribute to Ray Bradbury's classic tale.

Chapter 2:  George Smith

In the west, the sun, smothered and dying in clouds, sank. Moundshroud hooted his delight:

“There it goes, boys. The heart, soul, and flesh of Halloween. The Sun! There Osiris is murdered again. There sinks Mithras, the Persian fire. There falls Phoebus Apollo all Grecian light. Sun and flame, boys. Look and blink. Turn that crystal spyglass. Swing it down the Mediterranean Coast a thousand miles. See the Greek Isles?”

“Sure,” said plain George Smith, dressed up as fancy pale ghost. “Cities, towns, streets, houses. People jumping out on porches to bring food!”

“Yes.” Moundshroud beamed. “Their Festival of the Dead: the Feast of Pots. Trick-or-Treat old style. But tricks from the dead if you don’t feed them. So treats are laid out in fine banquets on the sill!”