Tuesday, September 20, 2011

The Wagon

Pumpkins sat on the stoop. "Isn't it early for pumpkins?" Gabby asked. The weather is still summerlike regardless of fall looming ahead. I thought of the Pumpkin Patches that will soon be springing up. Wagons will be stacked full of pumpkins and squash. The smell of the field and the farm will permeate the air. The wagon.

I loved to ride on the wagon. When I was a child, safety wasn't yet a concern. Dad pulled the big flat-bed wagon behind the tractor, and we bounced on the back of the wagon. When Dad put the sides on the wagon, grain and corn filled the bin. When Dad combined, we sat on the grain while it rained down on us. We played on the wagon as it sat in the barnyard or in the barn. It became a stage or a playhouse.

Fall brings back the best memories of hayrides when Dad pulled a load of kids in the wagon heading to Camp Sugar Grove and roasted hot dogs. Straw bales sat around the side of the wagon where teenagers nestled for warmth against the first bite of Fall.

I will walk around the wagons filled with pumpkins or pass by the piles of pumpkins at the store displayed on bales of straw, surrounded by cornstalks and remember a wagon on the farm back the lane on Neff Road.

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