The Little Crossing

I crouched low along the sun-warmed garden path, watching a tiny gray pill bug march steadily across the paving stones. Right in its way lay a deep, shadowy crevice where the mortar had cracked. The little creature hesitated at the ledge, waving its delicate antennae over the drop. Not wanting it to tumble, I searched the mossy border and picked up a smooth, flat pebble. Moving with slow, steady care, I slid the stone into the gap, wedging it firmly to form a level bridge. After a cautious tap, the little traveler scrambled straight across my ramp and disappeared safely into the clover.