The Yard

For my writers group recently, one of our prompts was to write something inspired by a horse chestnut, or conker, as I know it. This is what I wrote. Welcome to Friday, by the way. Let me take you down memory lane.

The Yard

Do conkers exist after you leave school? I feel like I never see them anymore. Back in the day. Back in the schooldays. The schoolyard was covered in them. I didn’t understand it, to a point. I didn’t understand it because the yard, as we called it, only had a couple of trees at either end.

But alas, there on the ground from one side to the other, there were conkers spewed about. They were an easily accessible weapon when put in the wrong hands. Not to make it sound like modern warfare. If you weren’t playing football, you were playing with conkers. Most of us were kind to one another. It was all in good fun.

I don’t recall ever fashioning my own conker on a string. I remember watching other pupils battle it out. Some conkers looked like they were grown in a lab. I guess those who found those ones were the lucky type. What I can most remember is the abundance. Conkers. Conkers everywhere.

The yard was solid tarmac. But between leaves and conkers at certain times of year, the sight of pitch black was not a regular one. It brings me back when I see them now. It brings back that childhood innocence. A time before screens ruined it for everyone.

Maybe some kids still play with conkers, and the tradition has carried on. It is a nice thought. Life is different now, and that’s a different thought. A strange thought. I hope that time hasn’t gone forever. That is a worrying thought. Whenever I see a conker now, I will think about my childhood and the sheer luck I had.

I hope this little piece of personal nostalgia brings back memories for you. Thank you for reading and for your time.