The Stick Carrier – Living Arrows. We’ve had a wonderful half term, full of adventures in some of our favourite places. When I was looking through the photos at the weekend there was one theme that flowed through all the days, not including my son’s bright red coat of course! My eight year old could well be known as the stick carrier. In fact, that’s been a good nickname for him for as long as I can remember.
I can’t even remember the first time he picked up a stick and carried it along on his adventures. But I do know that they’ve been an expected accessory for a very long time. Definitely since before he started pre-school. They’ve been carried along, through wind, rain and snow, on sunny days and even on beach days. They’ve always been a part of his day. They’ve made their way home each time, but been left at the front door. Mum’s rule. I’ve often been surprised that he’s never thought to take them round the back to the garden, but no, a pile, a heap, a mountain no less, has formed by our front door. Of sticks, memories and adventures. I might have started to thin them out a little recently, but there are still enough left behind to make a decent sized den for a hedgehog or two.
So I wonder, how much longer I will have a son known as the stick carrier.