A Tiny Sprout in Clay

I ran my fingertips along the crumbly edge of a forgotten terracotta pot resting on the stone bench. Tucked deep in the dried soil, a single curled lime-green seedling was struggling against a tiny pebble. I carefully pinched the pebble with two fingers and lifted it away. Dipping my thumb into a cool drip spilling from an overhead watering pipe, I let a solitary, glistening drop roll right onto the parched earth around the fragile stem. The tiny sprout seemed to gently uncoil in gratitude, and I clapped my hands in silent delight.