Ike had been stewing about a number of problems, and making little progress on any of them.
Finally, he decided he needed a change of scenery.
The pub was too crowded, even if they did have some of the best pancakes around. So he wandered onwards. The belfry was still full of bats, which reminded him he had promised to design a mechanism to ring the bells without dropping bat guano all over the ringers. Another time.
His problem was that he knew too much. He knew so much that he no longer knew for sure what he didn’t know. He was starting to take things for granted. This wasn’t making progress on his great work any easier. He stewed about that as he continued on.
As he walked, he noticed that the sunlight reflecting from some of the stained glass was colored differently than either the window appeared or he remembered the spots of light being colored inside the cathedral. He almost stopped and went into the apse to check his memory, but realized that too was a distraction. He set that aside for consideration another day.
After walking for a while, he settled down under a tree for a nap.
But every time he dozed off, an apple fell on him.
It was as if the tree was taunting him by throwing apples at him at moments when it would be most effective.
He looked around. None of the other trees were dropping apples, only the one he was resting under.
So he stood up and moved to the next tree over, and settled back to doze.
The first tree was no longer dropping fruit, but this one had just hit him square in the face.
Still nothing from any of the others.
He stood, spun around with his eyes closed, then walked forward until he reached a tree. Sitting down, he noted that there was little wind and all the trees seemed quiet. So he returned to the task at hand. Or really, at trunk.
At this point, he realized that despite the gravity of his need for a nap, there was really only one lesson to be learned:
Trees only drop fruit when it is funny.