For the Love of the Pumpkin
For the Love of the Pumpkin
- Photo essay by
- Lara Ajami
The moment has arrived! For me, these annual occasions are a chance to step back from the world and focus on simple joys. I took my daughter, Gia, to a Virginia pumpkin patch to find our "annual pumpkin," a quiet greeting to fall.
As we entered the farm, the sounds and smells hit me immediately: the scent of hay and dirt, calm music, and the low, collective chatter of happy families. Orange wasn't just everywhere; it felt alive, vibrating in the afternoon light.
Here, you find a family buying the pumpkin, which will reside for a period on their doorstep or inside their home, before some of it settles on their dinner table. This annual activity is linked to Halloween and Thanksgiving meals, establishing the pumpkin as a key item for both seasonal décor and meals.
This is where the holiday starts for so many: families taking photos, couples relaxing, children running through the rows. It’s a collective atmosphere filled with simple, uncomplicated joy. This is the peace we enjoy now.
But before the pumpkin became a means of decoration, the gourd was something else entirely: survival food. Indigenous populations cultivated its thick flesh, knowing it could sustain them through the cold months.
The pumpkin, therefore, holds centuries of history in its skin. It carries the echo of survival and the lore of superstition. Yet today, it is simply a symbol that attracts families and spreads pure, uncomplicated joy.
It is an object transformed: no longer merely stored food or a shield against spirits, but a fruit carrying the warmth of tradition. This is why we come. This is why we choose. This is why we love the pumpkin.
The moment has arrived! For me, these annual occasions are a chance to step back from the world and focus on simple joys. I took my daughter, Gia, to a Virginia pumpkin patch to find our "annual pumpkin," a quiet greeting to fall.
As we entered the farm, the sounds and smells hit me immediately: the scent of hay and dirt, calm music, and the low, collective chatter of happy families. Orange wasn't just everywhere; it felt alive, vibrating in the afternoon light.
Here, you find a family buying the pumpkin, which will reside for a period on their doorstep or inside their home, before some of it settles on their dinner table. This annual activity is linked to Halloween and Thanksgiving meals, establishing the pumpkin as a key item for both seasonal décor and meals.
This is where the holiday starts for so many: families taking photos, couples relaxing, children running through the rows. It’s a collective atmosphere filled with simple, uncomplicated joy. This is the peace we enjoy now.
But before the pumpkin became a means of decoration, the gourd was something else entirely: survival food. Indigenous populations cultivated its thick flesh, knowing it could sustain them through the cold months.
The pumpkin, therefore, holds centuries of history in its skin. It carries the echo of survival and the lore of superstition. Yet today, it is simply a symbol that attracts families and spreads pure, uncomplicated joy.
It is an object transformed: no longer merely stored food or a shield against spirits, but a fruit carrying the warmth of tradition. This is why we come. This is why we choose. This is why we love the pumpkin.
