A Sea of Pumpkins

It's definitely going to be a bumper crop of pumpkins this year. The vines in the above picture stretch out at least 20 feet. There's absolutely no way I can wade through that, I'll wait till after the first frost to harvest. Once the leaves shrivel, it should be much easier to navigate.

All the pumpkin plants are from seeds that I collected last year from my crop. This seed collecting is turning out to be pretty good, almost a no-brainer actually. I wonder why I always thought I should by my seeds in packages?

I grew two types of pumpkins last year. 'Sugar Pies' are a smaller pumpkin, they're just the right size to feed to the chickens. Last winter, the chickens really enjoyed still warm baked pumpkins. I didn't even have to take the entrails (yes, I know that's not the right word for pumpkin innards but that's what it looks like) out, just cut the pumpkin in half, throw it in the oven and I'm done. The other type of pumpkin was the typical larger good for carving Halloween pumpkin. When I saved the seeds, I made sure to separate and label the different seeds. It turns out that it was probably not necessary. Some of the seeds would likely be hybrids of the two pumpkin types. I would imagine after a couple of years of collecting my own seeds, I will start getting just one size.

The pumpkins seem to be turning early this year. By mid August, I was seen flashes of orange already. They do well planted on the edge of the garden so the vines can stretch out over the grass instead of over-running the other plants. Mind you, I did have get a few vines off the tomato teepees and get them going the right way. All in all, I think it's a good idea to plant them on the garden border.

pumpkin taken Aug. 10

Heavy Rain

What a difference a deluge makes. The river by the end of the summer is a weary, nonchalant thing. It meanders, it pokes along, doesn't seem to take an interest in anything. Birds come and fish, tourists take pictures, fish jump and the water continues to trickle over dam much like a leaky faucet. It's uninterested and, for the most part, it's uninteresting. The dam stands solidly, dark and bored.

Then we get a heavy rain, usually it's the remnants of some post hurricane or tropical storm. That perks the dam up. All of a sudden, it's got more water than it can handle. I can hear the water thunder over it in a continuous and rhythmic drone. Under the dull roar and splashes, the rhythmic drone sounds like heartbeat. And all the dam was made to do, hold the water back, is pushed to its limit. While the water will not be held back, the dam stand firm. The river expands and a new edge is made. The pristine clear water, tinted only by the sky's reflection turns a frothy red as the river bed churns.

After two or three days, the water is spent and the creek goes back to its placid self. The dam lets a trickle of water over its edge. It has done its job, the houses and the road nearby were safe from flood water.

Before And After Hurricane Danny.