Stepping onto the Soil

I wiggled my back away from the clear plastic support peg until it clicked loose. My footing felt much better once my feet actually met the woven rug. The air near the baseboard felt slightly dry, so I walked over toward the large glazed planter near the terrace door. Ribbit. Up close, a damp brown fallen leaf was resting right beside the saucer, along with a few stray grains of soil. I knelt down and pressed my palm against the cool underside of the leaf. It had retained just enough moisture to feel pleasant, perfectly firm and unbothered by the quiet afternoon.