Shelter in the Stone

The quiet inside had grown familiar, so I ventured past the garden path toward the neighborhood park, riding softly inside an open canvas tote bag until it rested by the lawn. Tucked beneath the concrete bench, I noticed an acorn cap resting exposed against gravel where passing runners might crush it. Nearby lay a hollow fissure in the weathered stone leg, dark and undisturbed. Bracing my soft rounded arms against the rough earth, I rolled the small wooden cup forward until it slid cleanly into the crevice. It rests sheltered from heavy boots now, secure in the cool shade.