Yesterday I helped my 4-year old great-nephew pick up acorns so he could fill a toy fishing net with them. He later spread them out on the concrete and arranged them into different shapes, instructing me to not let my dogs eat them. As if they would.
It was only later that I made the connection with the moundbuilders, cultures that would have probably been busy this time of the year gathering the various nuts that drop to the ground during autumn. We, too, pick up the pecans that fall from the pecan tree in my mom’s backyard, using them in pies and other recipes. I always think of their world as being so different from ours, having nothing in common with our microwaves, interstates and pre-packaged food. But I guess we still have, at least, this one thread that has continued for centuries. Handed down, generation after generation after generation.