Thunk!

The busy season has begun for the squirrels, as acorns are now ripe enough to fall. Our cottage is in an oak grove, beneath the rambling boughs of one enormous old oak. Now that August is here, all through the night we hear soft thuds of acorns falling upon the roof and, as soon as day breaks, the squirrels awaken and scamper about, gathering and hiding the nuts. There is a continual din of little claws upon bark as creatures ascend and descend the trees and, oh!, the indignant chattering cries as the squirrels quarrel over nuts!

Illustration from Ocke, Nutte och Pillerill (1939) by Elsa Beskow

There seems to me be to be plenty of acorns for all. Every day I sweep our front steps of the pried-open shells of fallen acorns and dropped nuts. And the lower roof of the cottage, which I swept only the day before yesterday, is already covered in oak leaves and twigs and many, many nuts.

My sister is coming for a visit this evening. So I have an afternoon before me of baking and washing. There is laundry to be folded. I am going to take a walk through the woods and look for wildflowers for the kitchen table. And I guess I will sweep the front steps again.