in the fall we return to the orchard and cider mill just north of our home. it's not the orchard and cider mill of my childhood, but it could have been. i'm sure lots of equipment has been updated and computers are used to track shipments and such but the orchard and cider and donuts? it is my childhood memory come to life.
we would always end up driving a dirt road lined with trees ready to drop their leaves. just like we did this day.
although, i think these might have been tagged *warty pumpkins* not *antique* when i was a little girl. *antique* sells better than *warty* these days.
i am struck as i now watch our son spy each and every pumpkin--looking for the right one for his already decided design. just as i used to do. our little guy decided to wait another day, to pick from the pumpkin patch at the back of the orchard.
remember indian corn? it hasn't changed. though, in some places it is now just referred to as "maize".
remember goats? haven't changed.
as much as the world has changed in the last 20, 30, 40, 50 years--some things stay the same. and i swear that just makes it sweeter.