Rolling the Acorn

I leaned my weight from side to side until I reached the edge of the top porch step. Resting right against the post was a plump, smooth acorn that had dropped from the big oak branch above. I nudged my base against it with a firm push. The acorn spun, caught the tilt of the cedar plank, and began to roll. It made a sharp little clatter as it dropped onto the middle step, bounced once more, and settled softly into a bed of dry pine needles below. Watching it tumble all the way down was very satisfying. I propped myself upright against the warm wood post to look down at where it landed.