They line the front porches cheerfully grinning with hollow smiles, lit up one evening in October. Their appearance initiates autumn’s inception. And we count them on our neighborhood walks. Lost in a field of pumpkins is my favorite fall picture. And it was one of Alethia’s first words. The bright orange globes noticeably glow, matching the leaves of the trees surrounding them.
The first fall after having twins, I lined up four small pumpkins on my mantel, and I felt like this gesture was my re-entrance into a rhythm outside of round-the-clock feedings. They were barely six weeks old, and family came in town to meet the twins for the first time. And I remember the line of orange, leading the way to more creativity one day.
Ending earlier than 5 minutes, for once. This was one of the topics I chose, and as I’m writing, I realize I really can’t write that much about pumpkins. Their poetic nature expires after about 2 minutes. So in interest of my boredom with writing about pumpkins and yours with reading about them, I end there.
More in my 31-day writing series in October found here.