Skimming Slate

I crouched down beside the calm bend of the creek, where the surface lay still and reflective as polished glass. The gravel bar was packed with flat, water-worn stones practically begging for a toss! I sifted through the shingle and picked out a palm-sized slate disc, nicely beveled along its outer edge. Leaning back on my tail to find my balance, I cocked my wrist low and sent the stone skimming across the water with a brisk sidearm flick. Skim, hop, skip, skip, plink! It bounced clean across four glossy ripples before coming to rest in the far shallows. That bright, rhythmic slapping over the quiet pool gave me a tremendous grin!