Seeing the prolific amount of buckeyes on the ground this time of year conjurs up several memories for me, mostly as sweet remembrances of fall hiking on trail. By far my oldest memory of a buckeye, however, is of the good luck token that lived permanently in my grandfather’s trouser pocket. I cannot remember anything he specifically said about his buckeye, but I know that it was a fairly common tradition for folks to carry one around in their pocket, especially in the South. I do not have many memories of my maternal grandfather, as he died when I was young, but somehow, buckeyes feel like a sacred connection to him and to a simpler time. And so I think of him and smile when I see the ground covered in the smooth husks and seeds of our native yellow buckeye.
This large and bountiful tree, the Yellow Buckeye, thrives in moist, rich coves, and is one of the first you’ll notice unfurling its large, palmate leaves in the spring, and one of the first to yellow and drop its leaves in the fall. Many insects and hummingbirds enjoy its lavish, pale yellow flowers in the springtime. The dark shiny seeds are toxic to humans, but they’re totally fine to carry around in your pocket.
In recent years, seeing a buckeye on the ground has also become a trigger for instantaneous laughter as I remember trying to sleep in shelters along the Appalachian Trail as a Ridgerunner in the Smokies during the falltime. A couple of the shelters along that 72 miles stretch of beloved footpath, sit randomly, yet strategically, beneath large, old buckeye trees ready to cause a kerfuffle at a moments notice.
Somewhere around mid September to early October, many an unwitting hiker will tuck themselves into their cozy sleeping bags for the night, to be abruptly and rudely awakened by what can only be described as total chaos. A squirrel might be to blame for loosening some of the giant, heavy fruits from their stems, or perhaps a gust of wind is the culprit, but either way, the outcome is the same… A shotgun shell spray pattern of terrifying thuds across the metal roof will startle awake any hiker out of their deep slumber after hiker midnight (generally around 9pm but could be anytime after dark). I think that would have made my grandfather laugh out loud, by the way.
And another thing… your earplugs are useless. Because even if they are good enough to block out the buckeye cacophony, the startled yelps of unsuspecting hikers being jolted awake in the middle of the night is no quiet afair. So the next time you are settling down for the night in a metal-roofed-shelter in the fall, check your surroundings for buckeyes. If you spot one, you may opt to sleep far away in your tent!
