Scaling the Golden Fern

I bolted straight up from the dark bookstand toward the morning light flooding the window alcove! Standing in the corner was a tall, fluted terracotta pedestal holding a bushy potted fern. A sheer green cliff! Claws digging into the rough ceramic ribbing, I scaled to the broad rim and peered across the emerald fronds. Right in front of my snout, an upright glass plant mister glistened in the sunbeam, filled with clear water. I lunged forward, hooked my forewing claw over the curved brass thumb trigger, and bore down with my bill against the plunger. *Hiss-chhh!* A delicate, swirling cloud of cool mist shot straight across the fronds, enveloping my crest in a dewy halo. Pure morning magic!