Sunday 18 September 2016

#165 Interference

On my way back from East Dulwich on Saturday morning, as I walked through the park, I noticed a conker sitting on the ground. Surprised by the beauty of it, I picked it up and carried it on my way.

After a time, the thought occurred to me that such a splendid conker should grow into a magnificent tree. Looking down, I saw a small hole, not much larger than a golf ball and about as shallow. "That place would be just right for my conker" I thought to myself. I placed the conker in the hole.

Nearby was a clump of muddy grass. "This grass might make a cover for the hole" I thought to myself. Nudging the grass with my foot, I moved it towards the hole until it covered the conker. I took a step back, surveying the scene.

Something wasn't right. The clump, which was mostly old grass, held together by very little mud, didn't quite seem like it would offer the conker enough protection and nutrients for it to flourish. Did conkers even need protection and nutrients?

I began to realise that I was out of my depth. I didn't know how or where conkers needed to be planted. Had I given my newest friend a head start or set him back in life? Should I try and bury it deeper? Maybe it wasn't my call.

I bent down and removed the conker from its hiding place. It was covered in dirt. I tried to get some of it off with a leaf but it wasn't proving effective, so I rubbed it with the front of my tshirt until it was shiny like when I'd found it.

It seemed quite possible by that point that nature knew better than me about what should happen to conkers. Realising this, I placed the conker back on the ground, in a similar place to that in which I'd found it.

Had I learned anything from what I'd done that morning? Had the conker? Did it matter?


Jonathan Bandit Copping said...

You're both lovable nuts -

Running on empty said...

Love your writing, Dan! Man, I'm enjoying your archived posts!