Today the reading from Ecclesiastes 3:1 is very meaningful to me. “There is  a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens.” This weekend our family came home and harvested our last pumpkin crop and it felt right. Growing pumpkins and marketing their sales along our Highway #27 has reached its twentieth and final year. Another season of my life has ended.

I’ve spent some time today reminiscing about some of the other seasons of my life remembering how they too came to an end. When I was in college along with majoring in biology I planned on acquiring a math minor. That dream ended when I hit college calculus.

So the math minor became a Physical Education Minor and it couldn’t have been a more perfect educational adjustment. With that background I was able to become the head cross country coach at Wheaton High School. That led to thirteen incredible years interacting with athletes and other coaches. Our boy’s team even managed to win three consecutive District #21 Championships in 1972, 1973 and 1974!

That season came to a forced conclusion as another season began. My teaching assignment was changed. Suddenly not only was I a Wheaton Warrior but I also became a Herman Panther. I spent a half day in each school for eleven years. Try to coordinate a wardrobe when school colors are red and black at one school and orange and black at the other. One volleyball season when the Warriors and Panthers met in tournament play I did wear an orange tie with a bright red shirt. Needless to say I offended both schools although I enjoyed the experience tremendously. 🙂

To this day I have teacher and student friendships that began in both schools. They are friendships I would not have had had I not spent eleven years traveling those seventeen miles back and forth between schools. Think how bleak my Facebook would be! 🙂

That season ended when I was able to return fulltime to Wheaton High School and finally use my physical education minor in the classroom. Up to that time I had only used my minor for coaching. I spent three years teaching one class of ninth grade physical education that had a class size in the forties! It was a challenge but I  enjoyed it greatly. However to be honest that was one season I was happy to see end after only three years!

Wildlife Acres was an outdoor learning area and classroom that my fellow science teacher, Mr. Kuss and I had the privilege of developing starting in 1973. For many summers I sprayed, mowed and trimmed the plants in Wildlife Acres. The outdoor learning center became an essential part of my curriculum as I taught the life science, biology and environmental students. When I retired from teaching in 2001 having to end my ‘season’ with Wildlife Acres was a sad time for me.

Every now and then I return to Wildlife Acres and wander among the mini-environments as we used to call them. I observe Wildlife Acres is changing and aging very much like myself but it still feels like an old friend.

After three years of retirement I started another season of my life when I became the coordinator at the Bonanza Education Center in the Big Stone Lake State Park. Five schools sent classes there and I had to give them outdoor learning experiences. I had never worked with elementary students before so I was a little nervous at first but it turned out to be the most enjoyable teaching experience of my teaching career.

We hiked the native prairie hills, explored the basswood/oak forest and collected water critters on the shores of Big Stone Lake. It was eight years filled with screaming, excited voices and many teachable moments. But as I had learned from past experiences that season too must end.

Now I am facing another passing season. There will be no more browsing through seed catalogs looking for exotic pumpkin seeds this winter. I won’t be panicking if the front yard is full of deer, Richardson ground squirrels, Thirteen-lined ground squirrels or cucumber beetles.

I won’t freak out if the rains don’t fall for a couple months or if we suffer a hail storm. An early frost won’t bother me one bit either.

But I will miss seeing the small green cotyledons poking through the soil. I will miss watching the tiny plants grow into tangles of leaves and vines while sporting their bright yellow male and female flowers. I’ll miss the hum of the bees as they gather the nectar and pollen from the pumpkin flowers all the while the miracle of pollination takes place. I will miss seeing the first tiny pumpkins take form and  watch in awe as they grow into beautiful orange, red or white pumpkins. The colors will be dependent on what seed selections I made the preceding winter as I perused the seed catalogs.

Conversations with my friends and neighbors will be different. Throughout the summer of the pumpkin growing years the first comments I get are pumpkin comments. “How are the pumpkins doing?” “They sure are vining out nicely.” “How do you water them when it gets dry?” If I would have received a dollar for every pumpkin comment or question during the growing season I could have retired from pumpkin farming years ago.

The hardest part will be no more harvest times. The kids, spouses and grandkids won’t be coming home to fill the house so that it is bursting at the seams. I won’t need to outfit them with gloves so they can grasp the sometimes hefty orbs and lift them onto the trailer.

There will be no need to fill air mattresses  so everyone will have a comfortable place to sleep. No one will be complaining how slow their iPhone or Ipad  is functioning because of a lack of sufficient internet Wi-Fi.

We’ll miss the visiting time together and the olives and pickles floating in the variety of beers. We’ll miss the love of family and the friendly harassment that is a must in all our family gatherings. 🙂

There will be no more guessing if a pumpkin should go in the $4 line or the $3 line. There will be no need to worry if the gathering of pumpkins gets done before the Vikings start playing football.

I’ll miss the slam of car doors announcing the arrival or departure of a pumpkin shopper. Also I’ll miss the screams and laughter of little children scampering among the lines of pumpkins. I’ll miss watching little tykes peeking through the bars of Pumpkin Prison as Mom or Dad takes a picture with their phone.

When Halloween arrives this fall the last pumpkin season will be officially over. I think twenty years has been a pretty good run.

“There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens.”

Now I’ve got to start working on my next season. Hopefully it will be as enjoyable as the twenty year pumpkin season has been. 🙂

Until next time.