A Basin for the Finch

I carried my bumpy acorn cap out onto the balcony tiles, tucking it snugly under one arm as I skirted past the sliding door frame. Right beneath the big terracotta geranium pot, a tiny trickle of water had pooled along the outer rim of the clay saucer. I dropped to my knees on the warm brick and set the acorn cap flat in front of me. Cupping my hands, I scooped clear droplets one by one, filling the little wooden hollow until the surface rounded like a glassy bubble. A stray red finch feather from yesterday was resting near my foot, so I set the filled basin right beside it as an offering for any bird flying by.