Yesterday I was out in the back yard putting fresh water in the bird bath. George was upstairs in a darkened room taking a nap, a result of having flown all night from Hawaii to Boston.
I was in the middle of the yard, not far from a sailboat that is turned bottom up near the garage. I heard a strange sound. Plop. Plop, plop. I thought that a squirrel was throwing something down from the tree, or that a kid next door was plunking pebbles at our garage. Plunk, crack, pop, pop. I realized that something was falling from the tree, hitting the boat bottom and flying off into the yard.
Taking my life in my hands, I went and stood by the boat, waiting to get plunked on the head. On the ground were these nuts. They were falling steadily, 10 at a time, and it could not be squirrels or there would have to be a hundred of them up there.
Plunk, plop, pop. I noticed that some of the nuts that fell were open or half eaten, and others were whole. I noticed that they were not pecans. I noticed that unless I got out of there I was going to be beaned on the head. So I gathered this bunch up for my blogging pleasure, and skedaddled.
This morning I finally had time to ask George about it. He has lived in this house for over 30 years, he is an engineer, he knows everything. Although he told me they were hickory nuts, I could tell by his lame responses that he was clueless why they all fell at once. No, it wasn't squirrels; no, it has rained lately so they are not falling because of dryness; no, it wasn't the woodchuck. He looked at me and smiled. He had no idea.
I guess everything has it's time.
Have a great day!
