I gathered them up from the gravel along the sidewalk: acorns fallen from the four young Lacy Oaks struggling in the strip of ground between the restaurant and the parking lot. On two separate occasions, I gathered full pockets of them.
This has been a bumper acorn year. Although I am told trees just 30 minutes south have little fruit, those in town have been dropping acorns in masses. Sidewalks and streets and lawns are covered in nuts great and small.
And so it was that the temptation to gather them was irresistible as I walked between the restaurant and parking lot. The desire to raise another generation. But I had no time, so last weekend I put them in glass jars on the counter (after removing those that floated to the top of the bucket). Five glass jars for acorns from five species of white oaks. For a weekend when I might find the time to plant them in various containers with chicken wire to keep the squirrels at bay.
This was not supposed to be such a weekend. But upon admiring the crop on the counter, I noticed that, soil or not soil, the Lacy Oak acorns were pushing out sprouts. They had no intention of waiting. And so it was that I got some dirt, filled some containers, pushed down a few handfuls of acorns, covered them with more soil and fastened the all-important chicken wire.
So that they might sprout further and we might given more young trees as gifts to more of our neighbors in a year or two.