I WAS passing the Musselburgh Archer a few days ago.

For those who don’t pass this way so often, the Musselburgh Archer was commissioned by East Lothian Council and made by Svetlana Kondakova and Maja Quille.

He is made of bronze and is in the posture of aiming an arrow. His bow is not part of the sculpture, so anyone passing and not knowing the origin of this statute may wonder what he represents.

The plaque accompanying the archer tells us “he represents three important aspects of Musselburgh heritage: the Roman invasion in AD80, the battle of Pinkie Cleugh in 1547 and the Musselburgh Silver Arrow, which dates back to 1603 and is claimed to be the oldest sporting trophy in the world”.

His arrows can be found in different parts of the town, engraved with local people and their wishes for the future, and located in sites of historic or cultural significance for the town.

On Monday, as I was passing, he was clutching some autumn leaves which someone had artistically placed in his hand.

For me, as I visit the nearby medical centre every week, the Musselburgh Archer has become a regular feature of my journey. He often seems lonely, as if unnoticed, although I’m sure that’s not the case.

But on Monday I certainly noticed him. I don’t know who put the leaves there, but they put a smile on my face.

If I’m honest, I often feel a deep sense of melancholy at the approach of autumn. The longer nights and loss of evening daylight isn’t something I look forward to. But my melancholy is tempered with the cosiness of it, because it’s also a time we need to coorie-in. In our house, it’s a season for telling more stories around a flickering flame as the darkness keeps us inside.

There is also the beauty of autumn. There are moments when the display of autumn colours takes my breath away. But this display of colour is so temporary and that means it’s a bittersweet pleasure for me. It heralds an end, and I know that soon snell winds and bare branches will dominate the winter scene.

But on Monday, I was stuck in a Musselburgh traffic jam, worried I’d be late for an appointment. It was then I glanced towards the archer. He was surrounded by a carpet of fallen leaves, some of which he was holding in his hand.

I have no idea who did this, was it an adult or a child? Maybe both. Perhaps it was just an idea conceived in a moment, without too much thought or reflection. Maybe this happens every autumn and I haven’t noticed until now.

But for me, it seemed a simple, yet beautiful, idea to replace the bow of war with the leaves of nature. It transformed the emotion of the statue. It made him look as if he was studying the wonders of nature rather than aiming to kill in war.

I know we must remember and honour those fallen in battle, even those from long ago, but I loved this simple autumn idea, even if that’s not what was intended. As in all forms of art, the meaning is in the eye of the beholder.

It showed that a simple action such as this can have a positive ripple effect. It lifted my mood and, on my return from the appointment, I felt compelled to stop and say hello to him. He seemed glad someone had noticed.

This may seem like such a random thing to write my column about, but I also think it goes to the heart of what community can be about. We can all do simple things that make a tiny difference, that brighten people’s lives: plant something, pick up litter, smile, be friendly, and yes, arrange autumn leaves in a statue’s hand. All of this is within our power to do in a world when we can often feel so powerless.

I’m no doubt overthinking the intention of the person who did this, but nevertheless I’d like to say thanks for lifting my mood and making me smile.

In the end, that’s what we should all intend to do, even if it’s unintentional!