Toward the back edge of our yard a dozen or so trees are looking tired these days. Those trees are losing more than just leaves, they are also losing nuts.

This afternoon, I saw a squirrel scampering about with a hickory nut found among the multi-colored leaves. The squirrel’s jaws were stretched from ear to ear as it clamped the nut. That critter may be destined to soon suffer TMJ.

The scene transported me back to the autumn of my childhood years.

I recalled my dad sitting by the hearth and reading The Courier Journal. In those days the newspaper’s front page often presented something about what President Truman had said or done.

My dad would have a dish of nuts at arm’s length and would reach for one with his left hand while holding the newspaper with his right. He would nibble and read. When he finished, he would pass the paper to me and I would turn the pages to find Dagwood and Blondie, Nancy and Sluggo, and Steve Canyon. Sometimes I would reach for the nuts if any had been left.

Hickory nuts came from trees that presented them to us on the floor of the woods. We would collect a bucket of nuts and bring them onto the porch where a hammer could be used to crack the shell. I watched Dad do that, but I don’t remember him trusting me with a hammer in those days.

I was trusted, though, to help my parents pick out the nuts. Mom kept a close watch on what I accumulated and made sure it was only pieces of nut, never any hull fragment, that made it into the dish. It took a lot of time and effort to get a dish of nuts, and it only took a moment or two to munch them away. I never thought nuts were worth the trouble back then.

Then there were the walnuts, larger and tastier than the hickory variety. When the black walnuts in their green hulls got as big as tennis balls, they dropped from tree limbs. We were careful to gather them so our hands wouldn’t get stained, and then we would arrange the nuts in the graveled road in front of our farmhouse. The milk truck, mail truck, and whatever else came our way would have the hulls cracked in a day or two. Then we could gather the nuts and finish the job of tearing off the hulls.

A nutcracker was used to break the hard shells. Although my grip was weak as a child, I still managed to crack a few and get to the nuts inside.

Filling a dish with walnuts was easier than doing so with hickory nuts, and I preferred their taste.

These days when we have a hankering for nuts, we buy them in packages from the grocery. I still prefer walnuts and I’m quite content to leave the others for the squirrels.