With playful eyes and a cheeky smile, he hides quietly in a modest garden. He is not alone. At various points amongst the foliage, companions silently monitor the wildlife that resides with them. Part imagination and part memory, this menagerie of art would not be out of place on a rambling estate.
Frozen in time. Not a real person, but a creative flash, captured in stone for perpetuity. What chance was there that this peeking lad’s form would be cast and spotted through the miniaturised but sturdy limbs of a bonsai? There is nothing fleeting about his presence, unlike the visages of his brothers and sisters who had failed to inspire the sculptor to lift tools and shape their countenances.
Despite being weathered by sun, wind and rain, his grin does not change. He knows how lucky he is to have made it this far – from thought to reality.
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