A Soft Green Roof

I checked on my little terracotta dish under the bench first thing this morning. The shell and the birch twig were resting quietly right where I left them. Near the edge of the patio slats, a large, broad maple leaf had drifted down, dry and curled at the tip. Taking tiny, careful steps, I nudged it across the wooden floorboards with my front paws. It made a crisp, papery rustle as it slid along. When I reached the saucer, I gently lifted the leaf with my nose and tilted it across the twig, making a real, shaded roof over the shell. Sitting beside my tiny shelter felt so peaceful.