I like foraging for walnuts, far more than the nuts themselves. There’s something magical about wandering under the trees, and discovering those hidden treasures beneath the foliage, still in the dark husks.
I don’t mind the stained hands. The best walnuts, will eventually find their way into baking goods and the less perfect ones, will serve as birds feast. The magpies and crows love them. But I keep them for later, as they can find their own, at the moment. Letting them fall on the streets, so the cars run over them, and they can just pic up, the crashed nuts.
