Pumpkins keep coming to mind, even though it's nowhere near October. Last fall at a local Walmart here in central Texas, there were bins in the foyer, filled with beautiful orange lumpy spheres. Very big pumpkins. I bought one for Halloween. Instead of carving it then, I saved it. It ornamented my apartment through the holidays and it was still fresh enough to cook in April or May of this year. The pumpkin - a variety of winter squash - was delicious.
The seeds and pulp and outer shell went to a community compost heap, where grackles love to pick and choose their favorite snacks.
Deer, birds, fish, mice, raccoons, possums, pigs and people. Giraffes and monkeys and zebras.
A gift of earth and vines, rain and sunshine, the pumpkins are so large - they could feed a wealth of struggling creatures at little cost. They survive long in storage, available if grazing is hampered by a droughty summer. If I had leftover pumpkins, I might take one, carve a few holes in it, and set it in the shallows of a pond. Any seeds not consumed might take root to produce glorious colorful squash in the years to come.