Acorns to Oaks

Acorns are dropping everywhere in these hills. Some are huge and some are small. Ol' Abner tells me they are from two different oak species. Some are golden and others are a deep rich brown color, but they all have the signature straw colored cap. The deer and squirrels are hungrily munching and the dog occasionally crunches one up as she stops to sniff around the yard. Thumping on the bedroom roof followed by the sound of something tumbling down, then silence, frightened me the first few times I was awakened from my slumber. I thought something was running on the roof, or somone was throwing things up with the sole purpose of disturbing me. Nature has a way of disturbing even the calmest of moments.

Yesterday I talked with Mountain Girl. She is dealing with some of the same disturbances. Widowed and falling hard for Ol' Taxidermist, she has struggled to come to terms with her plan for the future. Two houses, each shared with a previous spouse, don't really fit her plan although he is pleasantly content to remain in the house where he and first wife raised three children. Each little upgrade makes her feel more like this might become her home, but the doubts persist. Her house, a beautiful home up on the mountain with scenic views and lovely isolation, is on the market. She is moving on from her past life. Her nature is to gather those acorns and make good use of them. She loves building things. They poured a new driveway last week and painted the new garage door. Still she seems to know that sound of acorns crunching on the driveway. No matter how many are eaten or crushed, some will sprout in the spring.