There are, however, two things to hate about October. One is the return of the leaf-blowers. The other is pumpkins.
That's right. Pumpkins.
"Geez," responds a guy I know when I mention that I'm having a problem with pumpkins. "You don't like pumpkins?"
Of course I like pumpkins. Everybody likes pumpkins.
What heart doesn't warm to the sight of a pumpkin on a porch, even if it's accompanied by the recently ubiquitous inflatable ghosts and store-bought cobwebs?
It's pumpkin mania that can make a person crazy.
There was a time when a pumpkin was a pumpkin. Carve it up, stick a candle in, make a pumpkin pie. The humble pumpkin, however, has morphed into a marketing monster.
Autumn as Pumpkinpalooza.
There are pumpkin lattes (Starbucks). Pumpkin bagels (Einstein Bros). Pumpkin pie doughnuts (Dunkin' Donuts). Pumpkin cheesecake doughnuts (Krispy Kreme). Pumpkin pie blizzards (Dairy Queen).
A Trader Joe's flier arrived in the mail last week, promising "All Things Pumpkin." This is not the entire list:
Pumpkin bread mix. Pumpkin yogurt. Pumpkin toaster pastries. Pumpkin waffles. Pumpkin cream cheese muffins. Pumpkin body butter. Pumpkin-flavored dog treats. Pumpkin biscotti. Pumpkin granola. Pumpkin chai. Pumpkin croissants. Pumpkin macarons. Pumpkin spice coffee. Pumpkin ale.
And something called pumpkin on a stick. I don't even want to know.
But to the extent that pumpkin is just a notion, the notion of fall, we may as well enjoy Pumpkinpalooza along with the rest of the new season.
It feels good to change clothes, change habits, to live in a place where the shifts in the seasons make us feel and sense and see how time is always moving forward, and always looping back.