A Gift

There's a Horse Chestnut tree on my 'walking the marches route' round the environs of the Dower House, and when I passed a few weeks ago, the local children had been there before me and scooped up any fallen cookers.
All that seemed to be left amongst the empty green outer shells and fallen leaves were one or two green unripe ones.

I pocketed two of them, brought them home and left them amongst the pots of cacti on the kitchen window. I discovered them this morning brown and popped open to reveal two perfect conkers, providing me both with today's blip and drawing.
It is the small things in life which can give the most pleasure.