Pumpkin Patch

I opened the car door, the cool autumn breeze hitting my face and the bright sun causing me to cover my eyes. I made sure my mask was on correctly before jumping out of the car. As my feet hit the ground leaves crinkled and crunched underneath them. The trees around us were bright oranges, yellows, and reds. Some were already bare empty. The farm was full, cars and people everywhere. Everyone had a mask on except for a few tiny kids. I grabbed my sisters and we made our way to a pathway made through a field of corn. The corn stalks were tall and looming, brushing against my shoulders as we walked. A few bits caught on my woolen sweater, I hastily wiped them away. The pathway was worn in and looked smooth from all the people who had walked it before. Reaching the end on the pathway we were met with a field of brown dotted with orange. Everywhere I looked were pumpkins. Small ones, enormous ones, yellowing ones turning rotten. Suddenly one caught my interest out of the corner of my eye. I walked down a row, careful not to trip on roots and dead pumpkin tendrils. I reached my orange beauty and picked it up. Orange and rounded and quite big. It smelled of the earth and freshness of the mid-morning. It had one side that was flat that was covered in dried dirt. I brushed it off and took in my prize. The perfect pumpkin.