As noted below, our first home in Africa was in a mango grove. In  season, boys liked to throw stones into the branches of the trees in order to dislodge those juicy mangoes. Not a problem–except stones don’t do well when they land on a tin roof. One day I thought I’d stop the young stoner who was bombarding our roof in his effort to get mangoes. I got within a few feet of him by walking up on the other side of a tree that was between us. Then I jumped out. He ran, and I fell over a root and had sore ribs for a week. Who cares about stones on a roof. Stones are better than sore bones any day!