Orange.

"Pumpkin" is one of my favorite words. I love the way it feels on my lips and tongue as I say it. I love the way it looks in writing or in type. I love how silly it sounds. I love to imagine it being said in a very serious situation. I love the poems and limericks where pumpkins are used as chairs, houses, or heads. I love the colors of pumpkins. I love the way that they have so much character. Sure, people can feel this way about all produce and yes, carrots are beautiful. As are tomatoes and eggplants. But, pumpkins. To me,  one of the most wonderful sights is a field, crate, cardboard box, or set of arms or hands with pumpkins in them. 

Tess and I took our annual trip to the Old Baker Farm's pumpkin patch. She brought her charming boyfriend, Mac and the three of us meandered through the pumpkins and picked a sunflower and pumpkin friends to take home with us. 

October is full this year and I am constantly on the go-go-go. Though I am very busy with studying and living a very scheduled life, I'm as happy as can be. My heart feels like it has stepped out for a while to be replaced by a lit jack-o-lantern, gleaming and glowing and not burning out. It'll be replaced by a tangled knot of Christmas lights in December.

 I won't see my bloody corazon until February when the cold weather moves on.