To Making Anew

When I was little, my grandpa cut me a hiking stick by hacking off a branch from a maple tree.  I took that stick with me on every single camping trip and trail.  I remember how tall it seemed, how much I loved it.

Inevitably, I grew up; the stick got fragile and short, warped and crooked.  It stayed behind while I went camping and hiking, left to gather dust.
Nevertheless, I kept it, because I’m a sentimental type and throwing away something that was part of so many grand adventures felt wrong.
Years later, I stumbled upon my old hiking stick gathering dust in the corner of my garage and gave it a makeover.
Perfect for jewelry holding, no?
Upward and Onward,



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