A Cozy Creative Life

One fall day, my cousin called and told me she would pick me up in ten minutes.

We were going to look for bittersweet and buckeyes.

Bittersweet grows wild and hangs from trees, but it can be difficult to find. I always took clippers along so I could reach the higher branches. After bringing it home, I would lay it in the sun and wait for the yellow berries to open and reveal the orange inside.

I used it in fall arrangements, around pumpkins, across the mantel and among ferns and hydrangeas.

The buckeyes were easy to find that day.

We stopped at a local college where an enormous tree stood on the grounds. We walked beneath it with our bags in hand, and before long, we heard something cracking under our feet.

Buckeyes were everywhere.

They were smooth, shiny and such a beautiful deep brown that it was difficult to stop picking them up. We filled our bags as we walked beneath the tree.

While we were collecting them, my cousin told me something I had never known about her father—my uncle.

He always carried a buckeye in his pocket for good luck.

It was such a small detail, but it stayed with me. I had known my uncle all my life, yet here was something new to remember about him.

For a while, I carried a buckeye, too.

I don’t carry one now, but every fall I bring out a bowl and fill it with the buckeyes I have collected. Their polished brown surfaces and pale circles are beautiful on their own, without needing anything else added.

To someone else, they may simply look like part of an autumn arrangement.

To me, they recall that fall outing with my cousin—and the uncle who always kept a little good luck in his pocket.