Turkish Hat squash and Butternut squash and Sweet Potatoes, which aren’t really potatoes at all but are my favorites,
The third color on the ring of candy corn below the white and the yellow,
The color of Larch needles,
The Chinese Maple leaves,
The three pumpkins made from construction paper by each of my sons,
The sunset in the evenings, as it drops below the mountains to the West, in the cool, clear air that no longer smells of forest fires, but now of woodsmoke (which is an entirely different scent),
The color of the home-grown jack o’lantern, waiting for that perfect moment to be split open, flesh scooped out, everything saved– because we just can’t bare to say good-bye to summer, and because the seeds from this year mean there will be a next.
Turkish Hat squash and Butternut squash and Sweet Potatoes, which aren’t really potatoes at all but are my favorites,
The third color on the ring of candy corn below the white and the yellow,
The color of Larch needles,
The Chinese Maple leaves,
The three pumpkins made from construction paper by each of my sons,
The sunset in the evenings, as it drops below the mountains to the West, in the cool, clear air that no longer smells of forest fires, but now of woodsmoke (which is an entirely different scent),
The color of the home-grown jack o’lantern, waiting for that perfect moment to be split open, flesh scooped out, everything saved– because we just can’t bare to say good-bye to summer, and because the seeds from this year mean there will be a next.