Buckeye Brunch Buffet

I’m into trees. I don’t hug them or anything — I mean I would if they were softer — but I like trees. When I walk around the neighborhood, I totally check them out. I ogle their leaves, I touch their bark, I admire their shape, their height, their canopy spread. I study the way they twist up and reach into the sky. I try to imagine how they got their scars and lost their limbs. I even have a favorite tree. It’s a towering Elm* with a trunk the size of a Honda. It’s on Linden across from the high school and it took some research on my part to understand that it was an Elm and not a Linden — which is an actual tree name and not just a street name. Like Maple Street. Or Oak Avenue. Anyway, pretty sure this Elm is the biggest tree in town. And I noted upon noting it, that if I were ever asked what my favorite tree in town is, this would be it.

But I digress.

I love buckeyes. Yes, those things that fall off buckeye trees in spiky chambers and litter the ground in a way that you can’t approach said tree in bare feet. Inside those pokey pods are buckeyes; dark brown nuts with a light tan patch. Apparently they’re poisonous to humans, yet bring good luck. I don’t know how that works — seems like a bit of a conflict. But…