My daddy like to garden. His garden was a place gnomes liked to hide. All kinds of contraptions were found in his garden – concrete blocks, big rocks, plastic, scraps of things tossed in the trash, strips of old carpet, discarded stockings or socks chewed up with toenail holes. There were lots of hiding places for garden fairies, toads, tortoises, rabbits and even gnomes. A scarecrow stood as sentry. It was sometimes attached to tomato cages or stood straight and tall, tied to a long stick. A shirt, hat, bandana or other garments completed its wardrobe. At the end of the harvest, the weathered, saggy crow was dismantled only to be replaced the next year by a newer model.
Daddy would try to grow almost anything, even produce that wasn’t supposed to grow well in the south. Various things were added to the soil. There was sand in the carrot bed, chicken manure, straw, fertilizer and peelings from fruits and veggies scattered in other parts of the garden. He planted fruit trees and bushes, and even tried his hand at grafting. Somehow that little man, who had an unconventional way of gardening, managed to grow an abundance of food in a little bit of ground. I think he must have used fairy dust.
Sometimes he planted Indian Corn. When the corn was ready, it was a sure sign of fall. Some of the kernels were exposed adding a splash of fall color to our table for a time. When it was good and dry, we would shuck the corn by pulling back the husks. I can still feel the corn as we removed the kernels from the cob. I put both hands on an ear of corn and twisted my hands in opposite directions working the kernels loose. By the time we were all done, our hands were sore.
A myriad of various shades of red, orange, yellow, and purple kernels fell into the bowl. When the kernels were good and dry, then came time for popping. Oil was heated in a pan, corn thrown in, and soon pop! Pop! Pop! The popcorn was good right out of the bowl, or for making popcorn balls, or caramel popcorn. Mama mixed up a syrupy mixture for popcorn balls. We’d butter our hands and shape the sticky popcorn into balls and wrap it in cellophane. That also meant it was also time for candied apples or caramel apples.
Colorful leaves swept into the air by a cool wind, pumpkins, the bite of the breeze on my cheeks, a warm jacket pulled tight, cuddling up in a fuzzy blanket in front of a cozy fire, roasting marshmallows over a bonfire, remnants of the overgrown garden, dried cornstalks, droopy scarecrow, colors of Indian corn, and caramel apples were reminders that Summer had passed the torch to my favorite season – Fall.
Every year, it still brings warm memories of special times with family and friends.
