A Track in the Stone

The patio door stood open just wide enough. I stepped out onto the warm flagstones. The morning air smelled of dry earth and sun. Right by my feet, a clean seam ran between two stone pavers, sloping down toward the garden bed. I found a smooth, rounded gray pebble near the moss. I aligned it carefully at the high end of the stone groove. One light tap sent it rolling. It clicked briskly against the stone edges, zipped down the incline, and rolled smoothly into a patch of soft sand beside a clover stem. Outdoor tracks have much more grit. The slope carried it cleanly.