subject: The Conker Feeling [print this page] Frowning in the wind I wrapped my arms even more tightly around my body and quickened my pace. My head turned down as I stared at damp ground splattered with crumpled leavesAnd a conker.
All at once I was overcome with nostalgia. My thoughts floated back to a time when my autumn was pretty much defined by conkers. The first sign of one and I was out hunting high and low with my Father for what to me, was a shining gem of a find. Conker wars were a must at school and in preparation we would put them on string, and, for that sneaky edge my father would say, he would paint them with polish...And trust me, hand picked conkers coated in my Dads magic polish were absolute winners.
I continued moodily pacing down the street anxious to get home and begin cooking dinner for one. I began to wish that instead I was skipping, carefree, thrilled by the discovery of fresh conker and on my way back to that warm bustling place I used to live. But, I wasn't. Things change. We grow up Exactly! I thought, and my frown turned into a smile as I beamed with fond nostalgia and the prospect that one day I could be the one being watched by excited eyes as I carefully paint a odd looking brown ball with magic polish
By Francesca Hubbard. Written after she walked home from the corner shop and felt that nostalgia and remembered those memories
