Acorns by the shovelful are falling this year, bouncing from car roofs, picnic tables, right on my shoulders as I stood out of the sun under a tree, scrubbin a pot with steel wool (don't ask me what I burnt in it). Picked up a bunch and put them on a Corelle plate to model for yall. All fall I didn't have to pepper even one squirrel for stealing from my bird feeder, there's just so many acorns...they're all beautiful, I love them. Emily Dickinson has that poem about acorns (#1371) that begins:
How fits his Umber Coat
The Tailor of the Nut?
Combined without a seam
Like Raiment of a Dream—-
Who spun the Auburn Cloth?
1 comment:
Plentiful? You tell ME, a suburbanite, this NOW? I just this week purchased PERS0N-MADE acorns!!
Actually, they're quite lovely. Hand-felted wool with fuzzy caps. Life-sized but in odd colors (one of the 3 I bought is mauve). A steal at $2 each. They are proudly displayed on my new (real wood) coffee table.
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