Woke up this morning to a dippy doodle that crawled out of the subconscious when  still half-caffeinated. A little forest spirit stepped onto the page, bold as you please. A walking log with one big watchful eye, twig antlers like radio towers picking up secret frequencies. He carries a staff topped with another eye, which seems a bit redundant, unless you’re the sort of being who requires multiple viewpoints at once. Understandable. Mondays are like that.

There’s something friendly about him though. A guardian more than a threat. The sort of creature who wanders the twilight edge between trail and dream, tapping the earth with his knotted staff, checking for… well, whatever treefolk check for. Maybe he’s listening for root gossip. Maybe he’s making sure no one’s stealing the forest’s socks.

I like the way the lines shimmer around the eyes, like little bursts of silent magic. You can almost hear the gaze. He feels like the patron saint of getting slightly lost on purpose. Of wandering down the wrong path just to see where it goes. A fellow wanderer of green corridors and mossy shortcuts.

If I see him next time on the Greenway or tucked beside a foggy ridge, I’ll nod politely. You never ignore someone with that many eyes, disembodiedor not. He’s doing important work. Plus, he looks like he gives good trail advice.

#sketchbook #forestguardian #wyrdwoodwalker #doodle #oddfriends