Rain on the Harvest Road
The cart sits empty, but the scene is full—of pumpkins, of memory, of the kind of rain that smells like fall.
The wet sheen on the old black cart, the idle pumpkins fresh from the field, and the overcast sky whisper a story of simpler days. You can almost hear the creak of wheels and the rustle of leaves. It’s the kind of scene that lingers—a quiet echo of harvests past.