[title not known] 

Editor: This is a small, delicate pencil drawing of a tree by William Henry Hunt. It’s kind of tilted on the page, or maybe the tree itself is leaning. What story do you think it tells? Curator: The soul of a tree, perhaps? Hunt, he wasn't just drawing leaves; he was capturing something essential, a quiet dignity. It reminds me of sketching as a kid, trying to catch the way light dances on a familiar face, only this time, it's on bark and leaves. You know? Editor: I think so! It feels very personal. Like a portrait, almost. Curator: Exactly. And it makes you wonder about Hunt's connection to this tree. Did he sit beneath it often? Was it a silent confidant? It's more than just a study; it’s a conversation across time. Editor: I never thought of it that way, but now I want to find my own "portrait tree"!