For as long as I could remember, my grandparents had a terrarium in their sunroom. It was hexagonal and huge, doubling as side table. You just don’t see stuff like that anymore. It was filled with plants (possibly fake) and some ceramic trinkets. There were buddhas, some wildlife and a grass hut. There was also a bridge that sat on a broken piece of glass that was supposed to look like water. I loved that terrarium. It was a tiny, peaceful world, safely enclosed in glass.
When my Nana downsized and moved in the late 90s, the terrarium was not in the best condition, and as far as I know, went straight to the dump. I was fortunate enough to inherit the tchotchkes though, and after nearly a decade, I finally got around to giving the buddhas a new home.