Country Sticks

My uncle Bob was like an older brother to me, being only 10 years older. He died 7 years ago and there aren’t many days when I don’t think about him. Next to my front door I have a stand of country sticks which he had crafted. My memento mori.

Boar and Dog Shepherd’s crook

He was passionate about what we in England euphemistically call ‘country pursuits’. His love of the countryside came early, from a childhood in Jordan where he learned to shoot in the desert. Back in England he was to become the Midlands clay-pigeon shooting champion and became well-known for his knowledge of wild-fowling, shotguns and cartridges. Later in life he was to regret the killing of birds and animals, but such sentiments were rare in the 1950’s and 60’s.

Antler and Tooth

He had an intimate knowledge of English birds and fish, which he shared with me over many years of walking together and fishing in Scotland and Ireland. It is to him that I attribute my decision to study Biology as a first degree in the 1970’s and take up angling as a life-time pursuit.

Otter and Trout

Flamingo

I don’t think his sticks would have won any prizes. I spent many happy hours in his workshop watching him work his sticks. For the shanks, his favourite woods were Blackthorn and Holly, particularly if they had hosted Honeysuckle to give that a clockwise spiral. For the heads he would work wood, antler, bone, and tusk.

Snipe