Just inside the front gate, pumpkins are peddled from the back of pickups for the low low price of five bucks for a small one, ten bucks for a big. Pumpkins appear around Halloween and linger till Thanksgiving. Their color is a reminder of autumn, turkeys, Pilgrims in stoic clothes, the end of another year.
Pumpkin firing guns are lined up behind yellow tape in an open field and their operators are occupied checking mechanisms, choosing the right size pumpkin for the barrel of their compressed air cannon. This year pumpkins are spray painted to make them visible when they shoot out of the gun.
This festival has a midway, an art exhibit by kids, a face painting booth, vendors and informational booths, roasted corn, kettle corn, Barbeque, turkey legs, and home made chili.
In the parking lot, in an open pasture, cars park in strict rows with a fine layer of dust settling on them like a Biblical prophesy.
The town of Estancia, New Mexico hasn’t seen this many strangers the entire year.
When you see pumpkins shooting more than three thousand feet in the air, you come to a new appreciation of their military potential.
Wars don’t always have to be serious.
If we shot pumpkins at one another, the world would be a more peaceful place.