When I’m out walking the beaches I can’t resist picking up the sticks washed up by the sea. I’ll often fill a carrier bag or two, taking them home and storing them in my shed.
Sometimes I use them as kindling for a fire, enjoying the magical blue flames that the dried salt conjures. Other times I make things from them, once a mirror, another time a replacement fence – quite rough that one, just some interwoven sticks in front of the old fence. It looked good though.
This time I thought ‘fish’.
I must find something better than a button for the eye though.