When Halloween comes to Montreal, winter doesn’t lag far behind. Trick-or-treating is done in mad, giddy dashes between houses, an exhilarated rush in the darkness. The air is crisp, sometimes biting, and more than one toddler waddles through the eve, bundled in a snowsuit beneath their inevitably rotund costumes. Chimney smoke and woodstove fires, and all the classic scents of Halloween – loads of candy, leaves, cold earth, smashed pumpkins left over from Mat Night’s debauchery – are sharp and clear in the frosty air.
La fumée de cheminée et toutes les odeurs de l'Halloween - bonbons en masse, feuilles mortes, terre gelée, citrouilles écrasées - parfument l'air glacial.