The other day Sophie came downstairs, set this on my desk, and said it was for me.
It feels like she keeps giving me the Sistine chapel...my girl...all her miniature masterpieces I can lose myself in for ages.
Something which makes me marvel...each one of these pieces has a personal meaning to me, yet there is no way Sophie could know it.
Except, perhaps, for the beetles. She's well aware I have a fascination for the intricacies of tiny living things.
Pretty little shadow box. Sometimes I think it will come alive...