They heard And from His presence hid themselves amoung The thickest trees Gustave Dore (1832-1883)

The drawing presents a scene steeped in shadow and concealment. Here we observe two figures huddled together within a dense thicket of trees, their bodies pressed close as if seeking refuge. The composition is dominated by the foliage; it forms a claustrophobic enclosure around them, its intricate details rendered with meticulous cross-hatching that creates a palpable sense of depth and texture. Light filters through the leaves in fragmented shafts, illuminating portions of the figures while leaving others shrouded in darkness.
The male figure stands protectively over the female, his posture suggesting both dominance and concern. His gaze is directed away from the viewer, presumably towards whatever prompted their retreat. The woman’s face is partially obscured, her expression unreadable, though her body language conveys vulnerability and a sense of being overwhelmed. Their physical closeness implies intimacy but also a shared anxiety or fear.
The artists use of monochrome intensifies the emotional weight of the scene. The absence of color focuses attention on the interplay of light and shadow, enhancing the atmosphere of secrecy and apprehension. The dense vegetation acts as more than just a backdrop; it symbolizes concealment, guilt, and perhaps even a primal connection to nature.
Subtly, the drawing evokes themes of transgression and consequence. Their posture suggests an act committed, followed by a desperate attempt at hiding from judgment or retribution. The thicket itself can be interpreted as a metaphor for the complexities of human morality and the difficulty of escaping ones actions. There is a sense of profound isolation conveyed through their placement within this impenetrable natural barrier, suggesting that they are not only physically hidden but also emotionally distanced from whatever world they have left behind.