Spinning Seed

I nudged a dry, paired maple seed that lay resting on the rim of a weathered stone planter. Its papery wings were pale brown and curled slightly at the edges. Balancing along the narrow granite border, I picked up one winged pod with my teeth and held it over the drop to the soil below. When I let go, the seed did not fall straight down. It spun in rapid, dizzying circles through the still air, fluttering like a tiny helicopter before coming to rest softly on a patch of green moss. I tilted my head, watching the gentle spiral settle into the shade.