Falling Acorns

On Friday after- noon Asun and I were walking to the car when Asun got hit by a hard falling acorn. Ouch. It's that time of year. Yesterday we were hiking along the Appalachian Trail and I was feeling deeply affected by the season's warnings: life ends. warm to cold, green to brown, moist to dry. What to do? How to respond? Acorns were falling to my left, to my right. Then, kaplut, one fell right in front of me. Damn, am I being spoken to? And then, right on cue, Waldo stumbled badly. As he regained his balance he looked up at me, as if acknowledging, yes, I'm getting old, I'm reading your mind. But it was a sunny morning, too, and we just kept on hiking. The darkness wasn't real. I'd like to be ready for that darkness. Maybe it will help if I think of myself as an acorn. I'll get recycled.

And apropos my thoughts, here is the beginning of today's poem from VerseDaily, "Teleology," by Rebecca Foust:

In the seed lies all that it can ever be,
shoot, plant, flower, fruit and

in the end again, the seed.
In the acorn, the entire tree.