'I may be small, but I’m the boss of this patch.'

There it was—a wallaby frozen mid-step as if caught in the act of some quiet mischief. Its fur blended seamlessly with the mossy ground, a palette of browns and greens that seemed to belong to another era. It regarded me with an expression that could only be described as mild disinterest, as though it had seen countless others like me fumbling with cameras and whispered exclamations. The grasses around it swayed gently in the breeze, framing the little creature like a portrait come to life. For a moment, we shared the space in silence—two strangers bound by nothing but the sunlit afternoon and the soft rustle of leaves nearby.