Lady Falco welcomes you to her Hall of Mirrors, which leads to her private enclosed garden, or hortus conclusus. Or, at any rate, what I imagine a hawk would imagine as a private garden. Lots of mice in there; some nice perches; not a lot of effort gone into the wall...
The curious thing about this picture is that the two foreground mirrors and the grassy background are real, and constitute the same, single photograph: they stand, like monoliths (mirrorliths?), in a tapir paddock at Marwell Zoo. Why, I have no idea. Perhaps tapirs are delusional creatures, or simply incredibly vain, and need regular reminders of quite how weird they really are? Something we all need, from time to time.
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