Маленьке Ведмежа визирає з-під купи червоного кленового листя

Between roots and scarlet leaves, he watches :not fierce, not afraid, but curious. Autumn sets the whole forest aflame, yet the bear is the calm heart of it, brown fur glowing against the fire of maples. The stream at his paw reflects a softer world, where time slows, where one can almost hear the quiet rhythm of paws pressing earth, of leaves drifting down. He looks at us as though we’ve intruded into his secret hour, somewhere between play and meditation. It’s tender, disarming, almost comical : a guardian of the woods caught in the simple act of being. And I like this image very much: it feels like a lullaby painted in russet and gold.

Beautiful