A Steady Hop

I pushed past the porch gate and trotted down to the quiet rock garden at Centennial Park. Set across the fine raked gravel was a trail of flat, gray slate stepping stones, spaced just a short leap apart. I stood on the first slab, giving my head a slow tilt to measure the empty gap in front of me. Planting my stubby feet firmly on the textured stone, I bent low and gathered my weight. With a determined push, I hopped forward through the air. My feet landed cleanly on the next slate with a solid little thud. I held both arms out wide, rocking gently until my balance held completely steady.