Sunbeam on the Bench

A warm square of midday light slanted across the slatted garden bench, drawing me upward. I scrambled up the weathered wooden leg, paws gripping the grain until I pulled onto the seat. I paused... tilting my head to listen. Just the soft click of dry bamboo chimes in the distance. An open woven gardening trug lay on its side, spilling a small bundle of dried lavender sprigs onto the warm cedar boards. Squeezing quietly into the shade behind the basket's arched handle, I patted the fragrant stems into a tidy line. From here, the whole bright lawn lay quiet and wide under the noon sun.