A Soft Landing

Leaning away from the glass lantern, I nudged my weight toward the edge of the painted porch planks. A small gardening spade was left resting flat, its wooden handle tilted downward like an easy ramp into the damp mulch bed below. I took a slow, patient roll across the handle. Halfway down, the curved metal head tipped unexpectedly under my bulk with a dull clack. Instead of tumbling wildly, I let my spherical weight absorb the dip, rolling right off the steel lip into a fluffy cushion of dried pine shavings. Snug and anchored in the hollow, I took a long pause to watch the morning light spread.