A Measure of Wind

Remaining inside any longer felt insufficient, so I slipped through the slightly parted screen door onto the front porch steps. The open neighborhood stretched out before me, filled with steady currents of moving air. Near my boots, a fallen maple seed with a single curved wing lay stranded in a groove of the wooden plank. I knelt down and lifted it carefully to the lip of the top railing. Waiting for a lull in the breeze, I released it into open space. It spun in a rhythmic, dizzying spiral before catching a gentle updraft that carried it clear across the stone walkway.