The metal detector man shows me his haul: 10p, 50p, some batteries, a hard lump of rock. 'And my mate found the 50p when I gave him a go,' he says. I am looking for treasure myself - the memory from my childhood of a wreck at the Ferry Bend. Mostly we never made it to the point where the River Neath divides the land, mostly we were distracted by the sand dunes, the carpets of shells, or we decided it was too far to walk anyway and turned back. Maybe there was never a wreck. There isn't today. But there is still treasure here.
Since January 2020 all my work - haiku writing, poetry, prose, imaginative and non-fiction writing - has been posted on my website Lynne Rees . Please feel free to share anything from this archive, or my main site, but I'd be grateful if you could credit me as the writer and link back to the source. Thank you 🙏 Lynne