A High Perch

I pulled myself up onto the flat stone cap of the garden wall, my palms pressing against the rough, sunbaked granite. From this quiet height, the entire yard opens up beneath the noon sky. Down by the base of the wooden fence, a small sparrow rustled through the dry grass, completely unaware of me watching from above. I crouched low, staying still until my shoulders settled against the warmth of the stone. It felt good to finally slip outside and look across something wider than a single room. I think I will stay perched here for a little while, keeping watch.