Darkening Tunnel Of October

By Maryanna Gabriel

Then there are the nibblers. You know the kind I mean. The nibbles of the $1.50 at your bank account, or the sales tax off your purchase, the phone calls of solicitation with no care to you, and those that nibble away at your energy, the succubus of spirit. It has been a slow dawning realization that the teenagers parking consistently across the street are nibbling at the wifi signal. The ants come marching, bats in the belfry, rats in the rafters....then there is the garden. “You have a bunny.” The man beside me indicated the rapidly disappearing hindquarters of a rabbit. Suddenly the rows of lettuce and beets in the garden that have not changed their minute stature since August made sense. “I’ll have to cover them,” I muttered to my friend trying not to clench my jaw. Recently I commiserated with a neighbour. We had both experienced a porch raid. My calla lilies were casually crunched through like celery sticks but the chrysanthemum was spat out onto the deck with a pah patooey. Making good of a bad thing, I picked the flower up and brought it into the house where it decorated a vase. Yesterday I was thinking, at least the front deck is safe, as I placed a purchased box there with the intention of planting parsley. Relaxing by the fire last night I drifted off into a peaceful sleep only to awaken

to a loud clunking. There it was. Remarkably, hooves clattered up the six steep stairs to the aforementioned deck . "It’s too early for Rudolph,” I thought to myself and very wide awake now I was determined not to make this a good experience for my visitor. I flung open the door with a bang. It was just a youngling. Mr. Piranha clattered away. “And don’t come back,” came my strangled cry to the retreating deer. To quote Des Kennedy, as we “tumble down the darkening tunnel of October”, beware the nibblers and that which goes bump in the night. T’is the time of the great pumpkin. Time to take measure and tighten the watch.