A Patient Droplet

I noticed the gentle swell of water gathering at the lip of an aged brass garden spigot. Hopping onto the rim of a shallow stone trough beneath it, I leaned in to watch the bead swell into a clear, trembling sphere. It caught the noon light, mirroring the pale sky in miniature. With steady, deliberate care, I extended the tip of my horn to meet its curved underside. The droplet yielded instantly, releasing from the cold metal to fall with a crisp, echoing plink into the dark puddle below. The tiny concentric ripples drifted outward across the still surface, and I stayed low, admiring the expanding rings.