Sticks and stones were treasures in the forest of our childhood. They were swords and gold, light-sabres and jewels, wands and magical gems.
Climbing trees, in the forest, we would scale mountains and building dens we would hide from ogres. We battled legions and vanquished bad guys.
With our sticks and our stones, we lived a hundred different lives.
We carried them home, spoils of war and trophies of victory and leave them lying in the boot of the car or by the side of the front door.
Eventually, they’d be cleared away to make room for the real world.