|Some trees are nourished by the parents even - or especially - after death. Here an oak sapling cannibal nursery.|
A couple of years ago an oak sapling installed itself in the chicken house wall. Its first year I thought 'how photogenic, how cute'. The second year I began to imagine what oak tree roots could do to a rough stone wall barely held together by ancient mortar. The third year I would tentatively pull at it to see if it would let go. A trickle of dried mortar said not. Ever courageous, ever busy - the decision was postponed.
|Look at me! About to be a tree in the wrong place.|
It might have been the grandchildren - but I have never seen the boys show any interest in acorns. Sometimes they post them down mole holes and jump the mole hills flat. The rain storms had considerably curtailed their outside fun anyway. When the rain stopped, the sun and warmth returned and their attention turned to the pool.
The warmth gradually became excessive and pool time was postponed until later and later in the day. Even the chickens started to sulk and hide under bushes. Egg laying was definitely off.
|This is what the sun did.|
It solved my problem but I was still a little sad.