Where, you might ask, where did such a brilliant specimen of pumpkinness come from? How did you choose the seed? How much water and sunlight did you provide? Did you weed and fertilize it?
Great questions, all. And the answers all boil down to this: we did nothing. We have never planted a single pumpkin seed. Ever. About six weeks ago Linda noticed a squash vine growing near our abandoned, not-quite-a-compost-bin, a tall healthy vine with many, many large yellow blossoms. It wound its way up through a wooden pallet tucked out of the way, and rested on the fencing separating both of our not-quite-compost-bins. After a couple of days she noticed that there were both male and female blossoms. And a few days later, there was a wee green swelling, egg-sized, perhaps.
It became a round green softball, and then...there was some faint striping. We thought perhaps it was a watermelon, but eventually its pumpkinness became more pronounced, and then it blushed orange....and grew some more. The weather is going to turn more seasonal tomorrow with possible freezing, and so we picked it.
Over the years we have occasionally bought pumpkins to celebrate Fall, and when they turn unpleasant, we've put them over near the compost. We felt guilty throwing them out, but wouldn't officially throw them in the compost because they weren't ever organic pumpkins. So, we'd place them in the general vicinity, kind of hoping they would just....disappear....over Winter. And in fact, we've never gone into Spring with a nasty leftover pumpkin emerging from the remnants of snow. Out of sight, out of mind, probably some wild critter's meal. And yet...here we are. A forgotten pumpkin seed nestled deep in fertile soil, and without any attention or notice, without being tended by us even a little bit....became a glorious specimen of pumpkininity, an ode to Fall and the season of magic if ever there was one.
I'm not a laid-back kind of person. I'm a control freak who gets stressed more easily than I should. I worry, and obsess, and good things or bad things happen, sometimes because of and often regardless of, my need to control the outcome. This pumpkin.....happened. It was born and grew and thrived, all by happy accident and without any intervention at all. Nature took its course, and other than abandoning an old past-its prime pumpkin a year or two ago and forgetting all about it, we had nothing to do with this perfect, new, healthy and glowing little orb.
And that's the metaphor....sometimes we can just be who we are, in all our imperfectness, with no plan, no control....and magic happens. If that's not a reason to get up in the morning, I don't know what is.
Wishing you magical pumpkins!