Curiosity killed the cat

(cross posted from gvdruidism@yahoogroups.com) I live just down the street from part of Maplewood Park in Rochester. Year after year I've walked in the park in Autumn, grinning from ear to ear as I see the oak branches laden with acorns. There would be more acorns on the ground than there were fallen leaves.

Yesterday, I walked down to my favorite oak to put a myrtle wreath on it and sit and soak in the season. There were dried leaves aplenty, but it struck me that every acorn I saw was darkened and rotting, leftovers from the previous year.

Incredulous, I walked the path along the gorge toward Lower Falls Park. As I wandered I saw some small acorns, but I had to look hard to find them. I did not see a single drooping branch.

Then I remembered a walk I'd taken this past winter. I remember it was warm enough to leave my jacket at home. Despite the season, bushes and trees were budding. I was filled with a sense of foreboding that the weather would not be kind to the trees. Later snows blanketed the land once more.

So, as I enjoy this unseasonably comfortable October, I can't help but think of the acorns, and wonder if there will be any next year.

What do you think?