On my morning walk today I came across a pumpkin which, I suppose, had been taken from someone’s porch by St. Augustine and his friends and needlessly thrown away into the grassy median of Woodlawn Street here in Scranton. In fact, it had been dashed into a tree trunk and hopelessly broken (figure 1).
So now it’s a feast for the squirrels, the evidence of whose munching is visible in the bits and scraps of rind and the toothy marks around the edges. The ants are also busy at work, as is mold, visible here and there in the shadowy interior.
The texture of the pumpkin fruit is quite interesting, too, though I had to decrease the luminance of the yellows considerably to draw out the detail.