I must have slung at least five-hundred chestnuts into the woods under my house this year. And I must have slung at least as many around this time last year (“Helping the Chestnut Trees,” September 29, 2013). That adds up to about a thousand chestnuts so far. If one in a hundred gets lucky, that means there will be ten chestnut trees under my house one fine day. If I continue like this for ten more years, there will be fifty of them at least. Those in the know already call it Bon’s forest. As I write, a pile of chestnuts glows on my dining table. They are ready to go. Ready to go, too, my sling is right next to them. The forest’s name is none of their business. Neither is my impassioned writing about the fabulous forest of the future.

Addendum I (October 21, 2016)

Bon’s forest is advancing at a clip, I am happy to report. Last year I slung about five-hundred chestnuts into the woods under my terrace. And around one-thousand and two-hundred of them went into the woods earlier this year. All told, this amounts to two-thousand and seven-hundred chestnuts over the last four years. At the rate of one in a hundred, which still strikes me as rather plausible, there will soon be twenty-seven chestnut trees under my house. If I continue at this pace for five or six more years, a hundred or so chestnut trees will take hold in the fullness of time. By and by, slinging chestnuts from my terrace will make ever less sense, as the reproductive cycle will establish itself. The chestnut trees themselves will provide all the chestnuts required. And Bon’s forest will no longer be a joke.

Addendum II (November 2, 2023)

After eleven years of slinging chestnuts into the woods under my house in Motovun, I have had enough of this exercise. It is anyone’s guess how many chestnut trees have taken root thus far, but it is my own guess that their number is sufficient for them to take care of themselves in the years to come. In about a decade, most of the chestnut trees on top of the Motovun are likely to be gone, for many of them are in dire shape already, but their offspring will be doing rather well in Bon’s forest, I dare to predict. And there will be plenty of them, as well. According to my records, here are the numbers of chestnuts slung into the woods over the years:

2017 - 4,446
2018 - 2,965
2019 - 1,743
2020 - 6,549
2021 - 8,440
2022 - 5,533
2023 - 6,679

And the grand total for these seven years is no less than 36,355. During the first four years, from 2013 to 2016, I did not keep such a meticulous record, but my guess is that I had slung into the woods about five-thousand chestnuts a year on the average. All told, the numbers are impressive. And I hope that I will live long enough to learn about the outcome of my long-lasting experiment. Someone or other is sure to wander into the woods under my house and to notice the abundance of chestnut trees of some size. I can well imagine my joy upon hearing such felicitous news. And there will be a grin on my face whenever I happen to remember it again. Long live chestnut trees of my last hometown!