Pumpkin Patch

Carved jack-o'-lanterns glow among the pumpkins, a full moon hangs over the hills, and fog rests quietly on the water beyond. Three hours by the fire, with crickets in the dark.

The music is spare and unhurried: deep cello and bowed double bass in long, soft tones, with plenty of space between them. No vocals and no percussion — just a quiet, mysterious warmth beneath the fire and the night sounds, for reading, writing, studying, or winding down on an October evening.

The Pumpkin Patch is a field at the edge of the hills on the last night of October: a ring of stones, a fire that needs no tending, and lanterns someone carved that afternoon. Put it on when the evening calls for something a little mysterious but never frightening, with the lights low and a book or a quiet task in hand.