We’ve
all heard the stories.
Monuments
constructed with materials that aren’t where they’re supposed
to be. Towering slabs and boulders and such, miles away from their
source. Stones so heavy that today mechanical assistance would
be considered essential in order to move them, and yet they were
placed thousands of years ago without a whiff of understanding
for the methods used to get them into place.
Stonehenge
may be the most famously debated example of this. Even today,
after hundreds of years of research and arguments and testing
and questions, crediting the exact origin of the stones is at
times considered settled but not absolute. The current consensus
has larger sarsen stones – averaging more than twenty-five tons
each – being moved about twenty miles.
But
it’s not just Stonehenge. And, it’s not just stone.
I’ve
been walking the yard this year. Seasons changing, evaluating
some of the outdoor work that may need to be done. And on multiple
days, in multiple places, I’ve come across a mystery.
Corn
cobs.
How
the heck did I end up with corn cobs in my yard?
Corn
isn’t an unusual crop around here. But the nearest fields where
corn is grown are more than a half-mile away. I didn’t carry them
over. And I have not once looked out to see two or three people
eating corn on the cob in my yard.
Two
ideas come to mind.
The
first – and least likely – involves geese. Canadian geese aren’t
numerous around here. There are far too many of them to limit
the count by using a description so small as numerous. They are
all over the place. Gathering near bodies of water, and frequently
settling in for a meal in local fields. Typically, fields that
had been growing corn. And geese seem to love corn.
Perhaps
a few of them were munching away, took flight with a corn cob
and dropped it into my yard.
Doubt
it. But let’s remember: consider everything before eliminating
the improbable. (Still, not exactly a lot of search engine hits
for various “geese in flight drop corn cob” word combinations.)
So,
if not geese bombing my home, that brings us to…
The
second – and more likely – involves animals carrying them around
on the ground. I’d say deer. Maybe something like a raccoon. Our
yard is known to be an animal highway. And while I wouldn’t select
the rabbits and turkeys for blame in this area, would likely go
back to the deer to start, the reality is there are plenty of
options to consider. (And rabbits are sneaky. Never trust a rabbit.)
Over
my life, I can’t begin to imagine the number of how-did-this-get-here
mysteries I’ve encountered. Many of them involve absent minded
idiocy, such as not remembering how the car keys ended up the
refrigerator. (Honestly, most of them involve such idiocy. (And
the keys were only in the fridge one time.))
But
once in a while, a corn cob appears in the middle of an otherwise
empty area of grass. A corn cob I did not bring there. A corn
cob I feel comfortable saying the neighbors didn’t leave behind.
It
may not be the mysteries of massive stone movement level stuff.
It may not even be worthy of more than five hundred words of consideration.
But I would like to know before the next wave of geese fly overhead.