It was Keats, of course (having just looked it up), who wrote the following words about autumn:

Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness,
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eaves run.

— John Keats

Now I don't have the full text of "To Autumn" in front of me at this moment, but I think it's unlikely that our friend, the lyric poet, mentioned one key aspect of the current season – conkers! They're just so:

• shiny,
• free,
• and great for suspending on a shoestring for bashing your mate's knuckles in the playground

And because, as our man Keats also said, "A thing of beauty is a joy forever", here are a couple of (digital) snaps I took at the weekend of the 278 specimens that we collected. Yep, I did count them.

Some conkers

More conkers

Be seeing you!

Ed