Pick Up Sticks (SOLSC 14/31)

I am seeing more and more evidence of the beginnings of spring.  The itty bitty buds on the tree -- leaves just barely peeking out at the morning sun.  It's new life on a tree that was otherwise completely bare.  It still LOOKS bare until you get up close.  

Below, there is a smattering of sticks scattered around the base of the same tree.  It's old life shed from encounters with all of the wind and rain we have experienced in the past few weeks.  

I can't help but smile and remember a time when I myself was just beginning and the sticks I used to see everywhere in my pawpaw's yard.  The tiny buds remind me of my own tiny hands, clasped around the cool metal handle of a bright red wagon.  

In the summer, my pawpaw would set us out to pick up objects in his backyard -- I assume now that it might have been to help him have an easier time mowing.  I was accompanied by my sister as we dragged that wagon among the many trees of my pawpaw's backyard.  Every few feet we would stop and begin the process of picking up the trees' discarded items: sticks, pine cones, and green apples.  

Each would be tossed into the wagon and we would move on.  When we were done, my pawpaw always awarded us with some of his pocket change for our efforts.

Now, as I navigate the sidewalk with my dog, I have to resist the urge to stop and pick up some of the sticks.

Today's writing was inspired by one of the March Daily Writing Prompt from Teach Write.