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At a retreat to honour the Sacred in Spring, I gave my glasses and a very nice piece of driftwood for my wand, a stick with the wavy way of The Path I Walk and of the Snake that I emulate - shedding the skin of a worker bee for that of an Elder. At one end is a split that is obviously a mouth, which now holds an arrowhead of red jasper embedded with a tiny petrified spiral shell. I wrapped it with a piece of trim from my mother's sewing basket and she tells me that she has had it for over 50 years - it was what she used to trim one of the dresses she made for me when I was a baby. This is no longer a stick - it is a wand!
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