It’s one of those mysteries why some years trees, like oak trees, produce massive amounts of acorns and other years, not so much.
Usually, it happens to all the oak trees in a region in the same year. If you do online searches, you’ll find that 2021 was considered a mast year.
But my scarlet oak, Quercus coccinea, is having a mast year this year.
I’ve never seen so many acorns fall from one tree. The other day, I spent about 15 minutes raking some up because there were just so many of them.
Then I took the container of acorns inside and weighed it.
18 pounds.
A pound a minute! (Give or take!)
Even after picking up those 18 pounds of acorns, there are still plenty of acorns on the ground around the tree and presumably still holding tight to some of the branches. Enough acorns to feed all the squirrels, chipmunks, bluejays and other creatures in the neighborhood who dine on acorns for quite some time.
And yes, I could dine on acorns too, if I leached the tannin out of them, dried them, and ground them into flour. But I won’t. Let’s say it together, “that’s a lot of work.”
This reminds me that the other day when I was out front planting tulip bulbs an elderly neighbor walked by and commented, “You do a lot of work.”
To which I replied, “It’s not work, it’s gardening.”
Remember that if you have to spend time outdoors picking up acorns or do other pleasant tasks like planting bulbs.
“It’s not work, it’s gardening.”
It’s the same in our yard. There are huge live oak trees on either side of our driveway and I looked out the window of my study earlier this week to see the driveway literally covered in acorns. It’s a real bonanza for squirrels, jays, and any other critters that love acorns.
Yes, that “lot of work” comment always leaves me speechless. Good golly, I wouldn’t do it if it felt like work to me! But I feel funny calling it “play”. And I feel it’s demeaning to gardening to call it a hobby. Good golly, plants are not stamps! And to call it my passion, well, passion has a lot of other connotations that don’t apply. What it really feels like is “what I was meant to do,” “my life’s work”–which sounds too high-falutin’. So maybe, “It’s not work, it’s gardening” is the best solution.