*”Aesculus hippocastanum fruit” by Solipsist / Wiki Commons

I recently spent my first fall back in Blighty after 18 years, and I’d forgotten how distinctive the English autumn feels. For me it will always be the season of conkers, with their shiny polished-wood skins glistening in the piles of fallen leaves and their smooth round forms nestling snugly in the palms of little hands. But why are they called conkers? Continue reading →