Headed twigs

The other weekend I went down to the beach to look for some wood to finish building our entertainment centre. I was strolling along where the sand meets the morning glory and saw a cool looking piece of wood. My eyes were inspecting it as I took a few more steps. After a few moments I realized it would be too short, but its gray colouring held my gaze a little longer and my feet continued to keep the time. My next step was performed without looking down and through my flip-flop I felt a slight movement in the stick I had just stepped on. My gaze quickly fell to the ground and even more quickly and analytically ran up the length of the stick. Brown, rounded, about three or four feet long, not entirely straight: not suitable for our entertainment centre. The stick's head then turned around to face me. Definitely not suitable for our entertainment centre. I was about to turn around and saunter on, when the headed-stick and I locked eyes. It seemed just about as surprised to see me as I was too see it, but I betcha I was a hell of a lot of more scared. I then did something they say you shouldn't do and made my exit, but felt the situation called for a little bit extra so my steps were more jump-like than run-like, my feet coming above my shoulders with each step as I moon-hopped onto the sandy beach. I had no desire to allow my little stick friend a chance to tickle my ankles. I have to say it would have been quite the sight to behold from a far. I could just see one of my neighbours shaking his/her head thinking 'what is that crazy white boy up to this time?'.

In my defense of doing something you're not supposed to do, I didn't want to stand still long enough to see if I could have convinced it I was nothing but a tree quietly and innocently standing on the end of its tail.