I consider myself a seasoned picker and a bit of a snob.
While the throng of tourists raced up the hill to the sea of orange,
destined to be a foregone conclusion with their ordinary, plain pumpkins.
I ran down to the wild and crazy gourd patch on the other side of the hill,
where I practically had the place to myself.
The colors, shapes, and patterns are amazing.
This year I was a tad bit greedy, filling two wagons full.
Can you blame me?