Gourds and Pumpkins

Squashes must be the most imaginative outcome of vegetable production. They start out a modest, vaguely round fruit and end up a mannerist commentary on surface topology.

Fruits elongate and bubble at the end like hot glass, expanding curvilinear folds and dimples painted every shade of green, yellow, gold, crimson and purple, alone or in harmony.

This natural art form spans a large spectrum of sizes, from the extremely detailed miniatures to the monumental fifty pounders, and often yields startling results: Turkish turbans, softly rounded mushrooms, prickly warty gourds, swirly helices, overstuffed tufted pillows. The most impressive, and a children's favorite, is the ghost pumpkin, a white variety which comes alive at night with an eerie halo reaching for the sky.

I once bought a tangerine hybrid, shaped like a giant fig, and almost couldn't bring myself to eat it, it was that beautiful.

There is not enough room in my little garden for these sprawling impromptu art fairs with tendrils, but I'll make sure to bring home a Cinderella pumpkin to add cheer and autumnal flair to the front porch, they're the best for pie according to people who really know their pumpkins, and quite beautiful to boot.