from little acorns
I often wish I had an on-staff photographer to capture all those special moments my life has to offer. Like today, as I dashed across the backyard, metal bowl on my head, acorns pinging off in all directions.
Yes, I said acorns. Hitting my head. Or rather the makeshift helmet on my head.
My yard is under attack. I had no idea oak trees were so violent, but apparently, they have a wicked streak that comes out right around the same time the leaves begin to change. Our yard, both front and back, is covered in a thick layer of acorns that must make the neighborhood squirrels feel like they’ve hit the lottery. I’ve never seen so many acorns in all my life. And most of them are falling like mortar blasts from the sky. It’s like walking through a battlefield to get to the chicken coop…hence the metal bowl on my head.
I don’t care who laughs at me. I’ve already had my fair share of concussions in this life. And goodness knows, I don’t need to explain that to the emergency room doctors…
“Well, I was walking through my yard when I was accosted by multiple acorns, and then I woke up with a chicken standing on the middle of my chest, head cocked to the side, asking me if I was okay.”
No, I think the helmet/bowl wins this round.
Until the next time…I’ll be prepping my armor for my next battle for eggs.