A Speck of Amber

Following the gravel border past the lowest porch step, my sneakers crunched softly against the loose stones. Right beside the chipped saucer of an old terracotta pot, a small, striped glass marble caught the midday light. I crouched down without any rush, resting my paws on my knees to take a closer look. It was tucked snugly into a shallow rut of dry dirt. Very gently, I worked one paw under its rounded edge, nudging it until it popped free with a tiny scrape. I wiped the soil from its surface against my palm. The amber swirls inside gleamed warm and bright in the sun.