A Firm Footing

The air was quiet. I felt the cold, hard ridge beneath my paws first. Slowly, I shifted my weight forward onto my front left paw. It bore down with a soft, steady thud against the metal rim. Next to me hung broad green leaves. I reached my snout out gently and pressed against the tip of a low-hanging leaf. It brushed my nose, cool and crisp, then swung softly back into place. My paws are grounded. I am here.