Halloween Eve, and we had
not gotten the traditional pumpkins. I
could have easily gotten some at the grocery store, but the girls and I decided
to drive to Lendt’s Pumpkin farm. We had
been there several times before, and though it was getting late, I figured we
would have enough time to look around a bit, haul the wagon out to the field,
and pick our pumpkins before they closed.
It might even be kind of fun if it was getting dark.
We got there, and of course, we
didn’t see many pumpkins. We wandered
around the wooden Halloween cut-outs, and took pictures by the “How Tall Are
You This Year” sign. The kids had fun,
but it made me a bit melancholy. The big
Charlie Brown now looked like Kilroy.
As we headed out to the field, the
proprietor came up to us and asked, “Are you here for pumpkins?” I replied, “Well, yeah…”
“We don’t have any more pumpkins
left,” she said. “The ones in the field
are all rubbish.” She told us that if we
hurried, we had about 15 minutes to get to Pinehaven, a petting zoo/pumpkin/Christmas
tree farm that featured haunted hayrides.
We got over there with 10 minutes to spare, picked out our pumpkins,
paid our $20 and headed home.
I’m usually pretty good at making special moments, but not always so good at remembering to be in them.
“We can only be
said to be alive in those moments when our hearts are conscious of our
treasures.”
Thornton
Wilder