Plymbury Micro Magic: Circle of Light
Design by Kendra Vaughan
Circle of Light
Terryn almost walked past the Plymbury Pumpkin Patch that morning, hurrying to get home before the rain came. But one small, lopsided gourd caught her eye—its orange half melted into green, as though it couldn’t decide what it wanted to be. She bent down, brushing away a few damp leaves.
“You’re a funny one,” she whispered, smiling despite herself.
Her aunt used to promise that the imperfect pumpkins were the ones that made the best jack-o’-lanterns, shining their light for everyone to see. But this had been a season of broken promises—mostly the kind she’d made to herself about where she’d be in life by now.
Still, Terryn took it home and set the gourd on her porch beside a lantern, and tried to forget about it—until the next morning, when the sunlight caught it just right, and she noticed a soft glow pulsing beneath its skin, like a heartbeat caught in amber.
That evening, she carved it—not into a grin or a grimace, but a single circle, smooth and unbroken. A symbol, she decided, for all the things she could still count on: the tide, the seasons, the morning light.
When Terryn lit the candle inside, the glow steadied, warm and golden, spilling out onto the porch like a promise—and nature, she knew, always kept its promises.
Want More?
If this moment from Plymbury stirred something in you, there’s more where it came from. Join my newsletter for exclusive stories, behind-the-scenes glimpses, and quiet magic you won’t find anywhere else.
