Nestled in the warmth of my old brick kitchen, I found myself in a stolen moment of spare time. Quietly laid out before me, bones rested in a nest of the spoils of the day; rose hips, black berry brambles, magnolia seeds, olives, pine needles and an old wasps nest.
Some were hung to dry whilst others waited, eagerly humming with anticipation as we brought a charm to life. A protective charm for the home. An ugly little thing, with brambles that bite at delicate flesh, bells that sing, pine needles that prick, wasp nests that sting, all bound and sealed in hot red wax as words are muttered and life breathed into it.