You know it is fall when the pumpkins in your garden begin
to ripen. The thing of it is—I didn’t plant any. Still, there they are growing
on the slope that used to lie beneath the shade of a spruce: ten, perfect mini
pumpkins. Until the devastating storm two months ago, there wasn’t a spot sunny
enough to grow them. We almost didn’t notice them amidst the bumper crop of
weeds. We’ve been distracted with roofing and siding and haven’t had
the inclination to garden in this summer’s drought and heat. Now that the heat
and humidity are beginning to wane, however, I am out in the yard on my hands
and knees most days patiently making room for next spring—she’ll need a landing
strip.
Now and then, I’ve been tempted to grumble as the Aftermath
continues to eat up our days, but those pumpkins make me smile; they remind me
that I am not the one in control; they remind me of the unexpected blessing and
bounty I have received this summer. There are also some wild violets growing on
the slope and a single stalk of corn growing beside the driveway. I didn’t
plant those either. Each of these surprises brings me joy and lifts my heart
like a promise.
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