Well, depending on where you live, it might be -- but normally it's only the sound of those mighty oaks indiscriminately hurling future progeny to earth in time to get a root system started before the ground freezes.

Our yearly acorn fest gives anyone who spends a lot of time outdoors and/or lives under a host of oaks the perfect excuse to invest in a hard hat. Some folks who have skylights or who care if the roof of the new car looks to circling helicopters like craters on the moon have probably even adjusted the coverage on their home insurance and car policies.

The annual ballistics certainly make a simple walk in the woods more of an adventure, if not a hazard. But still, it's kind of fun. At certain times the crack of acorns dropping onto cars and houses sounds like a neighborhood symphony of pop caps. There's even an element of comedy when dogs and cats lazing about in the shade jump up, befuddled by being beaned on the noggin from some unseen source, and go a little crazy trying to find the culprit.

Just like us.

We try as much as possible to protect ourselves from the stinging little acorns life hurls down on us, but occasionally we just ... get ... beaned.

The job goes away, the car gets totaled, cancer appears, the kid fails math, the business gets robbed, the dog doesn't come home, the check doesn't arrive, the banks says "No," the newspaper gets your name wrong, the oven quits working, the spouse leaves, a neighbor complains, a tire blows, the cake falls, the toilet overflows, you don't get invited, it rains on your camping trip, it doesn't rain and your garden dies -- ouch! ouch! ouch!

How we respond to being bombarded with unwanted realities says a lot about who we are. Some of us make ourselves crazy trying to place blame. Some of us rush to fix the problem, and some of us just let it ride with no real resolution. But when it really hurts, most of us take the nasty acorn life smacked us with to friends, and together grow something good from it.

At least, that's how it seems to work in our community.

It's true we sometimes even hurl acorns at each other, but let a tragedy fall from the tree of life onto any one of us and we're there for each other with hard hats, umbrellas, fundraisers, benefits, dollars, food, comfort, hugs and love -- whatever it takes to deflect or heal the damage.

Nearly every bulletin board in town and each issue of the newspaper has a notice of one benefit or another for someone in need. The speed with which people jump on board, organize, and work together to help an individual in distress is stunning. Our community can be justly proud of that.

Perhaps we're so willing to answer a call for help because we've learned that big universal oak we all live under could pelt any one of us at any moment. Not everyone gets that, but we seem to. Today we help. Tomorrow we may be the one needing help.

The amazing thing about those acorns is that each one is a seed. They do hurt if they hit us, but causing damage isn't why they're sent plummeting to earth. They're sent from the green grace of treetops toward the dirt below because the strong and beautiful potential in them is meant to take root and grow.

So let's keep dodging both the real and allegorical acorns of life when we can -- but when we do get hit, maybe we should take a minute and realize the incredible power inside that little nut before we decide how to deal with it.

C. D. White