Every so often while out walking I will come across something or somebody that takes me by surprise. Stops me in my tracks. And so it is on my regular route to the University Parks when I encounter Dan Arnold and Trigger.
They are hidden all over Oxford and beyond. Outside, amongst the trees of parks and gardens, positioned in courtyards and parking lots. Huge ancient, crowned heads, features blackened with time, hair interlaced with lichen, lips softened by moss, some so weathered it is hard to see there ever was a face shaped out of the blocks of stone.
I find January and February the gloomiest of all the months. When the days are still short and the weather wet and cold. I become desperate for a pick-me-up, something to lift the spirits, a promise that there are brighter things on the horizon. And then suddenly pushing up from somewhere beneath the sodden soil, the first of the snowdrops appears.
It’s extraordinary to see what is achieved in such a tight space – Masoud and his team navigating the area, taking orders, scooping, cutting, frying, filling, it’s like a tightly choreographed ballet.