It started one day, with a large, "THUNK!" on our roof. The sun was shining and there was a minimal breeze, so I was quite alarmed as to what could have fallen above me. Curious, I went outside to investigate, but there was nothing. The birds were happily chirping away at the bird feeder and the squirrels were keeping to themselves in the trees. I didn't hear anything again for days.
Randomly things began to keep thunking down on our tiny house. It became more and more frequent, until one day it interrupted Ava's hallowed naptime. I could handle disturbances anytime of the day except when my child who never sleeps, slept. I immediately and stealthly crept outside once again to investigate. At that very moment an acorn launched from it's leafy domocile. "PING!" And with such velocity it bounced again from our roof missing my head by inches. "Ooooh, I get it now," and I shook my head powerless to stop the intrusive banging.
I don't know why it took me so long to figure the enigma out. Our house is surrounded by oak trees, and any other astute observer probably would have figured it out right away. Rick and I didn't remember such an attack the autumn before, but with a little searching the web proved to be a rich source for all things oak. Apparently, oak trees have bountiful harvests every few years and this was to be our year. So hear we sit, until the trees shed their autumn coat. Random pings, bangs and thunks at every hour of the day (and night. Ugh!)
Is it wrong if I laugh when an acorn pings off of Rick's head while outside smoking? I didn't think so. Maybe it's mother nature's version of the patch. Perhaps she can be a more persuasive promoter of quitting than me.