A Gentle Division

I walked outside along the quiet gravel paths of the botanical garden until I reached the narrow stone canal. Near an overhanging mossy lip, two small water striders were skittering in frantic circles over the very same floating camellia petal, their slender legs colliding in hurried tremors. Moving with deliberate care, I knelt down on the damp slate edge. Instead of disturbing the surface, I picked up a dry, buoyant fallen seed pod from the moss. With slow balance, I eased it into the calm flow right beside them. Seeing the new shelter, one strider gently pushed off toward the hollow pod, leaving both resting in still, undisturbed water.