It was a perfect fall day for an outdoor wedding. When I booked the gig six months earlier, I made sure the bride was clear on my weather and temperature requirements—temperature above 60 degrees, no rain, no high winds, full shade, flat ground. Those are tall orders in Michigan in the fall. But the stars were aligned, and this October day was picture perfect.

I arrived at the wedding site—a private home on a beautiful property near Lake Michigan. The ceremony for which I was playing was to take place under perhaps the biggest oak tree I have ever seen. It had to be at least 100 years old. Chairs for the 100 or so guests were set up under its massive branches, and the couple would be married under an arch at the base of the tree. This tree was so big and full that grass didn’t even grow under its huge branches that hung far above the ground. They had raked the dirt under the tree and laid out a beautiful rug where I could set up my harp. It was an ideal setting for a beautiful fall wedding.

As I got set up and began playing the prelude, I heard the slight breeze rustle the leaves above. Then I heard a few distant thuds. Several minutes later, another breeze brought a few more thuds. One of them right next to me. I looked down to see an acorn on the dirt a few feet away. I don’t know much about acorns, but the size of this one seemed to be proportional to the size of the oak tree. It was huge. This big, beautiful oak tree was dropping massive acorns from 30 feet. If one of these hits me…or my harp, it was going to leave a mark.

Guests were quickly finding their seats, and the wedding procession began. As the bridesmaids were walking down the aisle, another breeze came through, and I felt a piercing sting on the back of my right hand. An acorn had fallen and hit my fourth-finger knuckle. I winced in pain, but had to keep playing. At least it didn’t hit my soundboard, I thought. As the ceremony progressed, everyone realized what was happening. Every time a breeze came up, the guests would cower and cover their heads. At one point a little girl got nailed in the top of the head by a falling acorn and started crying. I sat there just hoping it would be a quick ceremony and I could make it out of there without getting an acorn dent on my soundboard. I played the recessional at the fastest tempo I could manage and scurried to get my harp out from under the tree. Luckily my instrument escaped unscathed, though I had a bruise on my hand from the falling projectiles. I guess I’ll have to add a new “no playing under oak trees in the fall” clause to my contract.