Indecision: The Complicated Lives of Acorns and Boots
“Quickly, they are coming! Now is not the time to be shy.
Cast off your indecision or be left to wither and die!”, the 15/16ths American Chestnut sprout shouted
to the small acorn lying on the floor of the greenhouse. They watched as the door swung open and two pairs of well-worn hiking boots entered.
“Aye!” squeaked the acorn, “What a quandary this be, how can I decide?
To stay is death, to go is unknown; no place for me to hide!” responded the nut in the way all sentient
plants must.
The two humans remained oblivious to the acorn and its plight as they set to work.
“I’ve been asked to give a talk on the Asian Long-horned beetle in Maine” the voice of the dark brown boots ventured after gently rearranging the seedling trays.
“That’s wonderful. Make sure you get out and hike when you are done.” replied his partner, the voice
of the tan colored boots. “I’m headed out to Oregon. My husband and I are taking a little vacation from the kids.”
But the acorn had no time for their small talk. It had to escape this greenhouse, and those boots were
the only way. Only, which boots? It wished it had more information to help figure out this conundrum.
“Chestnut, chestnut what is best?
To go east or to go west?
I’ll hide on a boot, I won’t be noticed
But how can I know where home is?” whined the acorn in a panic. Time to jump was running out.
“If you are undecided I cannot help,
My home is here upon this shelf!
When I’m big enough so they say
I’ll move to a park and play all day.
So ask the wind, they would know well
Or a rock, a bug or even a seashell.”
The acorn looked around for friends and not much later a gust of wind briefly blew open the greenhouse door.
The wind does not speak as a plant does. It whispers and seduces, cajoles, then abandons.
“East head I, to the morning sun.
To a land of watercolors.
To the mountains so old and worn
To the salty sea must I flee.
Join me, won’t you, little oak tree
Grow proud and strong with friends to spare,
When season’s late be colorful and bold
Let your leaves come and dance with me.”
This was sound reasoning to the acorn and it hopped on board the dark boot.
But a rock holding down important paperwork had something to say in its stubborn, terse way.
“How can you decide without hearing the rest?
Rest assured the wind does not tell all.
All that you know, is yet undetermined at best.
Best to hear what I have to say.
Go east if you want to hide among your cousins in a crowd.
Crowded with colors on mere hills on the ground.
Ground yourself in the boulders further west and beyond.
Beyond lays mountains of rock so tall.
Tall trees of might tower over the fields.
Fields of wildflowers dance at your feet.”
“Aye!” exclaimed the acorn, “That sounds wonderful to me.
West with adventure and mountains it shall be!” and the acorn quickly jumped ship to the tan boots.
“Oh little tree it tells you not,
The life of oak out there is hard.
Scraggly and short you will be,
Black oak, sad oak, small stunted tree.”
What is a poor little acorn to do? Before it could think to switch boots again, the tan boot voice spoke, “Mike! Looks like we missed one of the oak acorns. Let’s get this little guy planted!”
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