Foretelling the weather with persimmon seeds--and change.

We're always prognosticating or predicting how things will be. We want them to go a certain way. We want to have things our way.

Enter Mother Nature. We have rooked woolly worms, fog, quivering leaves, clouds, and seeds into our efforts to find ways to predict weather months ahead. Yes, I'm sure there are subtle patterns we may not yet recognize (I mean, we're just figuring out that plant life communicates with other plants!).

Predicting winter with an American persimmon seed is a new one I'm adding to my library of ways and means. And comparing the shape to dinnerware? Well, that's just cool. A fork? Mild winter. Spoon? Yeah, you'll be shoveling some snow. Knife? It'll be windy, and the wind will cut you. 2022 in TN? Spoon. Let's see how this winter matches up.

Remember last week I wrote about fear as a primary emotional reason to dislike change? Reading persimmon seeds (or even chicken bones and tea leaves) is another effort to control what is... not ours to control. There's another example of how we work with our fears when we know change is coming.