I have loved lots of autumn things. Crimson leaves, fireplace nights, warm cider, soup. But you, dear pumpkin, I don’t just love you. I adore you like no other squash has been adored before. I first saw you sitting humbly amongst your taller friends all named jack at the farmers market in Portland, and it has been nothing but bliss for us ever since. You didn’t whisper my name, or tug at my sleeve to come have a look see. You leapt into my vision and embraced me with your soft lines and dusty exterior. The moment I saw you I didn’t think it could be true. There was no way something so flawless was still homeless this late in the day…especially with your measly $8 price tag! With arms full of honeycrisps, I guarded you until the pumpkin man with a dreadlocked beard took the five and three singles I was flinging at him and offered to help me carry you to the car. You rode in my lap for no other place was safe enough. You were patient during the 7 hour ride home, never once begging me to stop singing like everyone else does in the car with me. Darling pumpkin, you don’t have to sit out in the rain hoping that hooligans don’t come smashing you when the moon comes up. You have prime real estate in the living room, next to our friend the fireplace. I know our time together won’t be long, and that’s what makes you so special. Your post-pick/pre-rot time is limited, so I’ll have to fit a lifetime of love into your two month lifespan. Thank you for your presence, my pretty pumpkin. I shan’t forget you any time soon.
Love for always,