At some point last summer, this little fella appeared on one of the memorial benches at the beach near my home.
Initially, I thought perhaps a child had dropped him and that he would be re-united with his owner. (I don’t think he’s been placed deliberately on the bench in lieu of flowers or anything but I could be wrong.)
Patiently, he waited there all through the autumn and all through winter. He’s survived torrential rain, gale force winds plus sleet and snow and still he sits there and smiles at everyone who passes by.
I’ve smiled back at him many times. In fact, on one occasion I sat him back up after he’d fallen or been blown over. Wee soul was sodden! Every time I walk by, I’m reminded of Jane Hissey’s Old Bear stories. The author in me wonders what story he has to tell. I’ve even considered writing a children’s tale featuring him but that’s not my genre of choice…but never say never!
For now though, he’s a familiar, smiling face when I walk by and, in this isolated, locked down Covid world we’re living in, that’s enough.