Backyard Ballistics

A flat wooden craft stick abandoned near the clover practically begged for engineering genius. I dragged a smooth acorn over to serve as the fulcrum, wrestled the stick across it, and balanced a shriveled little juniper berry onto the lower end. Once everything looked mechanically sound, I clicked my knee joints into a power crouch and stomped both sneakers down on the high side. Clack! The stick snapped down, the acorn shifted, and the berry shot straight up—right into my forehead with a crisp plastic thunk. I tumbled backward into the soft clover laughing my head off. That was at least two full feet of vertical launch.