Night Berth

Night gusts swept across the flared rim of the birdbath, making the open stone bowl too exposed for rest. I needed a sheltered berth until morning. Dropping onto my heels in the deepest hollow of the basin, I gathered several thick, flat tiles of cracked silt and stacked them into a low parapet against the windward ledge. A curved sliver of dried bark wedged neatly between them, sealing the gap. The miniature barricade held firm under deliberate palm pressure. Bracing my shoulders back against the concave sandstone wall, I stretched my boots across the cleared stone. High above the damp lawn, the watch was calm and secure.