A Pumpkin Patch and a Promise

It was a balmy September evening. Years ago our elders would refer to a season such as this being an ‘Indian summer’. Not sure if this expression is politically correct now. Driving down the highway with the sun just starting to dip in the sky in the rear view mirror….I couldn’t help but breathe a sigh. My Mother used to say when I sighed deeply… ‘never sighed, but sinned’. I smiled at this memory. She had some great expressions. But this sigh was to inhale some oxygen. For a few days now I feel like I have been holding my breath. I spent the day with my little angel….my grandson. He grounds me. He loves me unconditionally. When he reaches out to me with his chubby little hands and opens his mouth wide for a baby kiss…my heart melts. When I hold him…all is right in the world. It is my momentary reprieve – and the only task I have is to look after his needs and more importantly…to love HIM unconditionally.

We stop at a ‘U-pick’. They are selling sunflowers (what is left to pick) and a large assortment of pumpkins and gourds. There are huge bales of hay, baskets corralling the gourds and a pole with a red metal tube where you deposit the required loonie or toonie. It is the honor system. I love these places…and I love PEI for having them. It restores your faith in humanity…that people here in the country are trusting folk…and because of that…this system works.

The best part of our stop was the photo-op. With the golden/red sun shining in his little face, we sit babe atop the bales of hay and start clicking. He loves the camera. Even though the wind was catching his breath and the sun made him squint…he knew we were there snapping pictures and as is his custom…he cooperated fully. He was distracted. His little hands rubbed the pumpkin tops; he reached for the tall grass and watched the cars zoom past. Waking from a sleep in the backseat, he immediately awakened for this new adventure. There are not enough 'Cute' adjectives to describe it!

I made a silent promise this sunny September evening. I made it to myself. I must return to my writing..the writing that awaits me…silently beckoning me from a far region in my house.