When a colleague requested donations of pinecones and acorns to support his wife’s crafts, I got busy outside collecting pinecones. These sticky wonders are among my favorite ornaments made by nature. Still, fall would not be complete without – acorns, complete with their little beanies; kaleidoscopic Indian corn; smooth, shiny chestnuts so cool to the touch; and pungent haystacks… and the one that tops all for festive fall curiosities: the pumpkin.
As I rode my bike around the village this past weekend, I noticed that they prevail. All of a sudden, they are everywhere, coloring the town orange, scattered like rogue soccer balls, or like some strange mutation invasion.
I liken them to nature’s clowns – turned into playthings to be gawked at either for their size, shape or the art into which people turn them. I got mine the other day, feeling like a Halloween without a proper pumpkin is like an autumn without the crunch of leaves. As I left Rochester’s Cervelli’s stand (where every conceivable size and shape of pumpkin awaits), I watched as families were positioning their kiddies in front of a gigantic gory Halloween display replete with pumpkins. Ahh, fond memories flash through my mind of that excitement of the approach of Halloween.
In keeping with tradition this week, I will carve my purchase into a grinning jack-o-lantern – bumps and all. And yes, of course I’ll roast the seeds!
If you are a New Englander, there is something poetic about these squat orange squashes against the backdrop of fall foliage. They add vitality to the festivities that we celebrate – even if it’s just handing out candy to trick-or-treaters. In some cases, they feed the imagination. At age 4 our son Ian had a standard knock-knock joke that must have sprouted from seeing these sentinels. When we’d ask, “Who’s there?” he’d answer “Pumpkinhead,” and laugh hysterically.
For my British-bred husband, the total Halloween experience was hollowing out a turnip – they didn’t have pumpkins! They would carve a face and put a stub of candle inside and carry it around the streets. No trick or treat (back then)… the first time he knew how that worked he saw it on the television show The Addams Family. The practice did eventually catch on in the U.K. and now it’s much about the candy and dressing up. I will have to ask my sister-in-law if Brits dress up their pets as many do here.
Fabulous legends surround the origin of the jack-o’-lantern. Some say that the flickering flame placed inside represents mischievous spirits or tricksters or creatures of ancient lore. And if a candle flame flickers on Halloween night, it’s being touched by ghosts. The practice of carving scary faces began as a way to frighten the spirits away. Of course, such fantasies diminish with the daylight.
One of the amazing things about pumpkins is their diversity – shape, size and color are all factors in the selection process. Perfectionists will advise you to examine the roundness, the way it sits and the stem’s viability. Hue is important, as is the absence of dents. I personally like a pumpkin with oddities – green veins and a little tilt give a jack-o’-lantern a more lifelike disposition. If you watch a child choose one, there is seemingly no science involved. They bond, and it’s a done deal.
We don’t always carve our pumpkins right away – but use them to decorate our lamppost beside a stand of corn stalks. In prior years to please my kids, I would fashion a scare crow as part of the scene. Sometimes it would be disconcerting as it looked human. Now I keep it simple, wrapping the decor around the orange globe – a metaphor for seasonal magic (think Cinderella) and a bit of hobgoblin fun.
“The yellow pumpkins lying beneath them, turning up their fair round bellies to the sun, and giving ample prospects of the most luxurious of pies.” – Washington Irving, The Legend of Sleepy Hollow
The Coastal Gardener
By Laura McLean