Not long ago, we loaded up the truck and moved from beautiful Hamilton Lakes to beautiful, Hamilton Forest. One of the things that really sold us on the new casa (in addition to the must-have in-law suite) were the enormous stately oak trees that shaded the house during the summer months. Well, that was back in the summer, but now that its autumn we have discovered the downside of being surrounded by stately oaks - acorns, millions of them. Day and night it's like living through a non-stop hail storm.
At first it was kind of amusing hearing the occasional acorn bounce off the roof of the sunroom but lately, jeez, I mean, how many acorns can one tree have? Last weekend we picked up six lawn and leaf bags full of them (believe me those suckers are heavy!) and admired our newly-seeded acorn-free front lawn (the back yard is on its own). Then it rained. Now we have nearly as many acorns as before and they're EVERYWHERE. The backsteps are a minefield of acorns, the driveway is carpeted with them and I'm scared to even look in the gutters. It's a wonder all those squirrels I see cavorting around the yard aren't as big as polar bears.
But here's my dilemma: aren't acorns good for something? Aren't they rich in niacin, iron, magnesium or something other than tannins? Isn't there an oak tree restoration project going on somewhere that's desperate for the kind of quality acorns my trees are producing in abundance? Can't acorns be converted into building materials? How about paving the streets of our fair city (whose logo incendentally is an oak leaf) with a warm brown asphalt of acorns (so much nicer than the basic black)? Oh, I know (heads up Greensboro Beautiful) we should have an acorn festival where artists are invited to sculpt clever designs using acorns and Elmer's Glue; maybe an acorn parade with an acorn queen -- "Phil, her gown was created entirely with thousands of acorns." -- I hope the winner is a pretty sturdy gal. Surely the Guinness Book of World Records would take notice if we filled First Horizon Park with acorns. We could even adopt a new city slogan: "The Nuttiest City in North Carolina" or "Greensboro: the city of nuts". We could hire out-of-work painters to go around the Southeast painting tobacco barns with our motto: "See Nut City"
If anybody's got any good ideas what to do with a million acorns, I'd love to hear them. How about the Boy Scouts? Wouldn't they love to do a Scouting for Acorns project? They can start in my yard.