A Dewdrop on the Leaf

I waddled through the cracked-open sliding door and onto the cool tiles outside. In the quiet corner, beside a clay flowerpot, a broad green fern leaf was dipping down low. Right on its tip sat a single, round water droplet. I leaned in very close, holding my breath so I wouldn't disturb it. When morning light caught the rim, the tiny drop lit up like clear glass, mirroring the tall brick wall behind me. Gently, I tapped the leaf's stem with the side of my flipper. The drop trembled, slid down the rib, and soaked softly into the dry soil below.