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He’s about 22 cm of cheeky calm, and he’ll pop himself wherever he’s needed with his blue trousers and green hat, like he’s the official one in charge of turning the universe down a notch. He’s always smiling, but not for show. It’s the kind of smile you get from someone who knows the woods tell jokes if you stay quiet long enough.
Right on the tip of his hat there’s a little bell, which sounds like a contradiction, but that’s part of his magic. Sometimes it rings by accident, and then he makes the shhh gesture even more seriously, like he’s apologising to the blackbirds. He says the mist is the forest breathing, and that humans walk funny the moment they realise someone’s really listening to them.
- He stands perfectly still to catch birdsong like invisible marbles
- He says hello to the park statues, just in case they rehearse at night
- He chases snails to see how they write silver across the ground
When nobody’s looking, he plants his feet in the moss and conducts choirs of birds with tiny little gestures, no noise at all. Proper classy.
