Walnuts. Earth.

I just get lost in them, even looking at them here.

**

It was meant to be a short stroll in the Botanics. The weather was pronounced iffy. I expected my mum to tire quickly because we got a later-than-usual start. But the gardens performed their usual magic: we forgot limitations as we started for an unassuming corner of the grounds.
There was much to make us stop. When flashy autumn yields to muted colours and fallen leaves, suddenly things that were hidden--branch stem vein--come to the fore. They don’t jump into the eye, mind you; they need be sought. We did, and saw.

**

I have a thing for nuts in their outer husks. The more vulnerable story--before only hard shell. They made me think of oranges and peaches, but decidedly unjuicy--more still-life than fruit.

**

Something broke the bounds of their mesmerism. I walked on. But they've stayed with me. Or at least so in a more applied state: I couldn't wait to come home and sauté some in duck fat; salt; eat.

Comments

[beth]

They are beautiful - like small alive stones.

[Briony]

If I could have the scent of black walnut in a bottle I'd douse everything in it. I love that spicy smell.

[Tori]

beth: Yes!

Briony: We have a bowlful in the living room just now, and I keep saying to R.: Bottle it! I neeeeeed it! Why can't they make room freshener smell this way? Lavender has nothing on this! There's no getting over it.