Beneath a sky heavy with clouds and upon a ground steeped in silence, a child stands alone. Their small figure, not yet tall enough to meet the branches, gazes upward at a tree whose leaves have been replaced by clocks. This is no tree of blossom or renewal; it is a tree that bears the weight of time itself. Before it stands a child at the very beginning of life — innocence poised against the relentless measure of passing hours. Where there should be play and wonder, there is already the shadow of ticking seconds. Reflected in the still surface of water, the scene doubles into another world — infinite, parallel, without escape. Whether in one realm or the other, the child remains beneath the canopy of time. This work is a meditation on the tension between beginning and end: the child as a symbol of birth and possibility, the tree as a reminder that from the very first breath, we are entwined with the endless cycle of time. The question lingers: do we enter the world already bound by its ticking, or is there still a chance to live before the branches are wholly consumed by clocks?