The crisp autumn air hit the blond ponytail at the base of my neck, and I smiled at the array of bright orange orbs that lay before me- ready to be plucked up from their mucky plots and placed lovingly on my doorstep.
Crunching the amber-colored leaves that carpeted the ground, I traipsed excitedly over to the pumpkin patch to select the perfect one to inspire thoughts of this new, fantastic season to each person who passed by our house.
Looking out amongst the masses, I saw it. As though a spotlight shone upon the twisted stem, it sat there, waiting for me: the perfect pumpkin.
Completely circular with flawless skin, my breath became entangled in my throat. Could this be it? Calling my family over to see (after all, I couldn't pick up such a heavy object by myself), I got closer to examine my spectacular find.
My dad lifted it off the ground with a soft grunt (that he thought no one had heard), and it sat there in the center of the wagon. There was no amount of hot apple cider or roasted corn that could fill me up with the pride I felt from locating that perfect pumpkin.