The Amber Plectrum

I slipped out through the side door to take in the crisp afternoon air, following the garden path over to the weathered wooden bench. Wedged snugly between two cedar slats was a teardrop-shaped celluloid guitar plectrum, its tortoiseshell swirl catching the pale October sun. I braced my feet against the textured woodgrain and took hold of the smooth plastic edge with both hands, gently levering it free from the narrow seam. Holding the translucent disc upright against the sky, the mottled amber glowed like a miniature nebula from a classic space film. Feeling that quiet connection to music right here in the open air brought an unexpected warmth to the day.