It seemed appropriate in the wake of the failure of my pumpkin crop that the last few dead remnants of the vines should be given some sort of a tribute on Halloween night. After all, had events transpired differently, their spawn would have been there, rejoicing in the blustery chill of the evening. Alas, it was not to be. Instead, limp yellow rotting vines greeted the night. Interspersed with the sedum and hydrangea flowers at the base of the tombstones. A fitting farewell.
Of course, when I attempted to feature the vines more prominently in the photographs, the wind had intensified and repeatedly extinguished the candles at the tombstones' base. Why am I not surprised? Anything else would have made the pumpkin growing experiment less than a total failure.
Of course, when I attempted to feature the vines more prominently in the photographs, the wind had intensified and repeatedly extinguished the candles at the tombstones' base. Why am I not surprised? Anything else would have made the pumpkin growing experiment less than a total failure.