The Winged Seed

A winged maple seed lay trapped in the groove between two wooden steps. I paused... waiting for the morning air to quiet. Slowly, I reached down, easing one slender finger beneath its brittle, paper-thin spine. It lifted with a dry, papery rasp. I held the curved pod over the edge of the stair, then drew my fingers away. It spun through the shade, spiraling down before coming to rest in the damp moss below. The faint vibration of its flight dissolved into the wood. I crouched low against the riser, watching it settle.