My trees are trying to kill me. Their weapon of choice? Acorns.
You think I’m kidding? Look at this:
In the thirteen years I’ve lived under these trees, I have never seen so many acorns. Some people say this increased production is a sign we’ll have a harsh winter. Bah! I know the real reason. It’s in retaliation for this:
Yes, this summer I had the tree guys come and trim some branches off the trees. I even had them cut down a few scraggly specimens whose branches were scraping on the garage roof. And they removed two that were dead. They did a great job and the “canopy” looks so much better. They even cleaned up every leaf and twig of their mess. Very professional.
But now the trees are on the rampage, getting back at me. These acorns aren’t just falling, they’re being hurled. Thrown with force. You should hear the noise these things make when they hit the roof. And the gutters. Do you know how much it hurts when an acorn traveling at high velocity hits unprotected body parts? Walking to the end of the driveway to get the mail is courting serious injury. If the acorns don’t hit you, you risk turning an ankle when you step on them. This morning I backed out of the garage and was barraged by a series of violent explosions bouncing off the roof of the car. Acorns. Personal injury isn’t enough, now they’re going for property damage. I’m surprised I could even hear it though, since there are so many acorns covering the driveway it sounds like driving across acorn-filled bubble-wrap.
I’m convinced the squirrels are in on it. It’s a conspiracy. They’re miffed that I disrupted their travels on the super-highway from the maple tree in the back yard across the roof to the big oak in front. I had the branches trimmed so they couldn’t do that.
Hey, they’ve got plenty of trees. They don’t need to be climbing all over my house too. I can picture them up there, three and four in a group, pulling back on the leafy end of an acorn-laden branch, stretching it tight like a slingshot, waiting for just the right moment and then letting go, releasing a hail of acorns, strafing the siding and pelting the roof over my bedroom. They do this several times each night. Yes, it wakes me up. Every single time. I see them the next morning when I open the blinds, sitting on the branch outside my window. Smirking.
But I’m onto them and I have a plan. I’m going to stay inside until they run out of ammunition. I figure it shouldn’t take more than another month. Or so. Okay, I didn’t say it was a particularly good plan.
Next thing I know, they’ll be trying to smother me. With leaves.
4 responses to “Killer Trees”
Funny. It makes me think of a neighbor we used to have who had a love affair with his SUV. Unfortunately for him, both of his two assigned parking spaces were under a big oak. The roof of his vehicle was a mess of tiny dents and bird pooop.
We have squirrels too. They dig up the flowers in the front yard. I assume they are trying to bury or retrieve acorns. Lately I’ve been finding these clumps of something in the yard or on the sidewalk. Not acorns. In size they look more like chestnuts except we don’t have any of those close by. I have no idea what they are.
“glombo” : it just says it all, doesn’t it?
Well, as luck would have it, Lori left her axe behind. Would you like an axe to grind?
isqpd – squirrel-talk for ‘Damn! Just missed her! Your turn.’
Sshhh! Geez, Merry, the trees are vicious enough without you talking about axes.
LOL BCB. At the Bay, our house is under oaks with acorns the size of jaw breakers. Definitely sounds like an air attack on the roof. And the squirrels thromp across like an army on the march. When we’re down in the fall, I have to sweep the deck and steps before I take the dogs out so I won’t break my neck.