A Step Into the Ferns

Finding the low glass door slid open just enough, I walked slowly outside onto the cool balcony tiles. Ahead lay a long terracotta trough filled with damp, dark soil and thick bunches of delicate ferns. I paused at the edge for several breaths, measuring the height before lifting my heavy front foot over the rim. The earth gave way with a soft, spongy sink beneath my tread. Stretching my long neck through the dense canopy of fronds, I nudged aside a damp, curled leaf with my chin. Tiny droplets of water shook free and rolled down my neck, smelling crisp, fresh, and wonderfully alive.