Harvest, and the zucchini that got away. That's Jimmie holding it. It was hiding under the leaves, and you know how it goes: you look the other way for three days and they turn into baseball bats. The rest of the picnic table is a regular late-August Saturday: tomatoes (the big lumpy ones are the Brandywines), green beans in an ice cream pail, cucumbers, peppers and onions.

We shredded the big one and froze it in two-cup bags for zucchini bread this winter. It made eleven bags. One zucchini.

The pink thing in the corner is my finger. I have been taking pictures for thirty years and I still do that.