Pick a Pretty Pumpkin
It's Falling. The smell. The taste. The colors. The football. The warm, fuzzy feeling that can only be attributed to Autumn. It's here. These are my days. And what better way to spend one of these sparkling days than at the local pumpkin patch? The hay bales stacked high and the pumpkins scattered plentifully...it's all a little bewitching. A spell casting delight with every step and squeal.
Watching my kids hand-select their pumpkins is quite enlightening. I have a child that grabs the first unmarred gourd she sees, hands it to me, then hurries off to play. She cannot be bothered by details or exactness. She is my silly and stubborn free-spirit. I have another that, with a laser-focus, will rapidly discover the biggest and the best pumpkin. He will fail to notice the field. He sees only The One. He is my intelligent and uncompromising visionary. Then there's the child that carefully tiptoes along the dirt, touching every single pumpkin until one seemingly speaks to her soul. She will not be rushed. She will not be interrupted. She is my contemplative and confident artist. And, well, the baby; she has no idea what is going on around her, nor does she care, because...DIRT!!! Yes, this day at the pumpkin patch is one of my days. A day when I get to see my children be children, and, for a moment, feel like I really know them. A day when I get to see some version of me reflected in some form of them. And a day when every single part of me is in love with every single part of them (at least until we all pile up in the car to head home, at which point I most certainly will simply be trying to endure them).**What are your favorite memories made at the pumpkin patch? Leave us a comment and let us know.**