
As the leaves began to turn their aging orange and fall from the trees like cherubs seeking naptime, I made my journey to the annual pumpkin patch. This is no ordinary pumpkin patch, however. This a pumpkin patch with blue grass bands, home made cider and artisan displays, and even a pirate ship. Venturing to this family friendly location takes me away from the hustle and bustle of city life in Shepherdstown. It is a place to meditate on folk music and heritage, a place to awkwardly run into people you haven’t spoken to in years, people you’ve secretly avoided while judging their silly meanderings on Facebook. It is a place to pause. (Below: my girlfriend, sneaking up on a lady pumpkin)
The importance of the pumpkin patch as a cultural relic stems from it’s ability to take us back to our “grass roots” as one could say. It reminds us that we indeed do live in the country and that life isn’t wholly about cranking out papers filled with half-understood ideas and just getting through to the next week. It’s a place that allows us to get lost in a maze other than our dumb, confusing minds; letting us soak in the breeze that blows us onward.
