… and an acorn fight broke out.
We spent last Saturday at a soccer tournament in Templeton,
CA (yes, as a matter of fact my son did score another goal, thanks for asking –
and yes, it was left-footed, as he will tell you ad infinitum even if you don’t ask).
Between matches, the boys discovered enough of these to feed
a medium-sized village for a year (which, of course, they did in simpler/better times):
(Click to enlarge)
California white oak (Q.
lobata) acorns – BIG ones. Big,
pointy ones.
And the boys did what 11 year old boys would naturally do: Someone yelled “acorn fight!” and they
started chucking them at each other. Acorns: Staff of Life, handy projectile.
Except one kid, who gingerly picked up an acorn and looked
in amazement at the tiny radicle that had started to sprout from it. You could see the mental wheels turning: So this
is where an oak tree comes from. He
showed it to his dad, then saw I was watching the scene and he showed it to me. I asked if he planned to plant it and he said
yes. We wrapped it in a t-shirt for safe transport home, and I’m
happy to report that by the time of the team pizza party (my favorite part of every soccer season) later that evening the
acorn had been safely planted in a pot.
Very cool.
No, that wasn’t my kid.
He was too busy becoming an acorn Gatling gun to notice things like
sprouting radicles. Proving, of course,
that the acorn doesn’t fall far from the tree.
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