When I was a kid, my parents used to take me and my sister to the local pumpkin patch to find our very own pumpkins. We’d walk down the rows of vines, turning promising pumpkins around to see if they were just right on all sides. This was the first of the end-of-year traditions, the signal that celebrations aplenty were on their way.
I can still remember the feel of the pumpkin stem’s prickles in my fingers as we cut it from the vine. Then hefting our find back to the car and home to gut them and carve them into creepy creations.
Nowadays, I don’t think kids get that opportunity as often. Yes, there are still pumpkin patches, but they’re more remote and available to people who either live in a rural or semi-rural area or those who don’t mind driving a bit to get their pumpkins.