"I'm so glad I live in a world where there are Octobers," wrote L.M. Montgomery.
So am I.
October is glorious, with the leaves changing colors and the colors changing the landscape. It's one of my favorite things about fall.
Another favorite thing when my daughter was small was the yearly trip to the pumpkin farm with my parents.
On one particularly beautiful, warm October day, the brilliant blue sky filled in the background behind a row of pines, as dark and green as ever. A red-roofed pavilion housed displays of multi-colored Indian corn, boxes of grotesquely-shaped gourds, and parents with little ones.
A nearby maple tree, tall and bent a little, showed off its orange leaves, while vivid orange pumpkins sat dazzling in the yellow hay on the ground.
My little girl, two at the time, commandeered a tall, bright green John Deere tractor and decided to ride it home. Nana coaxed, then helped her down, and she took off running along aisle after aisle of pumpkins. At one point, she slowed down long enough for me to capture her on film.
In the photo, she’s looking at the camera, squinting in the late morning sunlight. The blue of her shirt and plaid overalls reflects the blue in the sky above her.
Sunlight bounces off long blond hair as she stands next to a group of large, misshapen pumpkins, their shadows taller than she is. Her hands are clasped together uneasily, plump fingers gripping each other. She’s half-smiling, unsure and even a little confused, as if she's thinking, “What are these things, Mommy? Will they get me?”
That same morning, I snapped another photo that I treasure.
Granted, the quality of the photo is not good, but the memory of that day filled with many types of beauty--including the love of a papa for his granddaughter--is priceless.
What is your favorite memory of or thing about fall? I’d love to hear in the comments below.
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