I've never been a big fan of Halloween. Pumpkin patches, though — pumpkin patches I like a lot. Pumpkin patches out on the island, with dear friends and excited kiddos, with the morning fog settled into the hills and dales, with the trees turning red and the brown fields starting to sleep, with the birds swooping and singing in the cold morning air, with the flowers bright against the grayish-greens, with the pumpkins bright against the murky mud, with rumbling hay rides out to the farther fields, with caramel apples and sausages and apple cider for lunch, with cow trains and corn mazes and a big bag of apples to bring back home. With a little girl who's seeing it all for the very first time. I am, too.
