Conkers

A walk in the park made me conscious of the briskness of Autumn (the American Fall is a better word in this instance); how its representatives, the leaves, fan out, speed-frame and collapse into late-Fall/winter sogginess. And the lovely moist eyes of conkers dull and harden quicker than I remember. I guess some still play that game, in which the toughest ones were the most prized. As some no doubt still play marbles, or even make crude aeroplanes out of the long stalks of Chestnut leaves.