A Clink in the Tin

I pushed past the bottom corner of the screen door and crawled out onto the warm wooden porch. Tucked beside a heavy clay flowerpot was a little painted tin watering can. Sitting back on my heels, I spotted a smooth brown acorn resting in the groove between two deck planks. I scooped it up with both hands, feeling its cool, glossy shell. Kneeling tall, I held the acorn right over the open rim of the watering can and let go. It tumbled inside with a sharp, hollow clink-thump that vibrated right through the metal base. Wide-eyed at the sudden chime, I patted the tin belly and let out a happy coo.