Agnes came out of the birch line at dusk, the white lace held close to her body as though it had once been fastened there by other hands, and crossed the strip of open ground without haste, placing each foot carefully where the roots showed through the soil. Those who watched from the field did not call to her. She paused once at the boundary stone, turned her head slightly as if listening, and then stepped beyond it. The lace at her bodice had already taken the pattern of leaf and vein, the thread darkened in places where it lay against the skin of her. By morning she was seated against the trunk, her back straight, her hands folded, and the bark behind her bore the faint impress of her shape, as though the tree had received and was keeping her.

Agnes is entirely hand-stitched from vintage fabrics: black shantung, ivory and cream lace, silk ribbon. She stands 23" (58cm) tall from toe- to ear-tip, will hang in mid-air or against your wall, or sit happily upon a shelf. I say "happily"...she has been known to move in the night.