Walking on acorns

As I walk with Moss in the woods today there’s a crackle under foot, the ground is covered with acorns.  As you step on them they make a very specific sound, at a very specific time of year.  Acorns are such precious things that it feels irreverent to tread on them, but they are everywhere.  I remember playing with acorns as a child, I particularly liked it when I found them in their little cups, which I thought were like pipes, ready to be smoked.

I can’t resist to pick some up and pop them in my pocket.

I’ve been doing exactly that for years now.  I started well over twenty years ago, as I walked in the same woods with Louis, my Collie/Spaniel.  I couldn’t resist to gather some, but I wasn’t quite sure what to do with them.

Over the years I worked out that if I saved some long plastic bottles from the recycling, filled them with earth, and popped an acorn in, then by spring I’d have a tiny oak tree. 

Our garden is small, so I have to find homes for my little oak trees.  By good fortune, my brother has a farm in Devon, and I was able to plant some of my little oaks there.  Happily, when I visited them this summer, some of my trees are now almost shoulder high, and looking healthy. 

I can’t tell you what joy that gives me.

As I collect acorns this year with Moss, my plastic bottles are ready and waiting.  I’ll pop some in and hopefully they’ll grow.  

I wonder where they’ll end up.

Image:           As I child I loved acorns, especially if I found them in their little cups.