Today I noticed that the flowers in the garden were taller than the lion's head. When winter comes, it'll be hard to remember (or believe) that, so I decided to stop and sketch him.
While I was drawing, two young men came along. They stepped right between me and the lion, studied it for a while, talked about how they wouldn't like to meet it in real life, then climbed on it for a little photo-shoot. My sketchbook didn't faze them a bit. They behaved as if I wasn't there.
As they were leaving, one of them turned to me with the sweetest grin. Surprise! I wasn't invisible after all. He said, "My mother used to sit on that lion forty years ago."
He didn't say whether anyone was trying to sketch it at the time.
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