I snapped the photo outside the restaurant, after a good meal. Some light remained in the overcast sky. It's only now, several days later, that I take the time to look more carefully and more slowly at the little statue. The gnome holds onto the unicorn's mane not tightly but with trust and assurance. His free hand points onward, upward, echoing the horn. His beard echoes the white mane. Their dark eyes are lively and alert. Mushroom, grass, an old stump. Silver hooves, grey boots, a wonderful black-red cap, and we're off to save the world. Anything is possible, don't you think?