Midday Shadow

A flat slate sundial rested atop a wide oak stump beside the garden shed. I stopped two paces back, measuring the timber height before hopping onto the warm, rough bark. Up on the smooth stone disc, a triangular brass blade stood pointing skyward, casting a sharp wedge of dark shadow across the etched lines. I paused, watching how steady the dark shape lay over the number one. Stepping forward with slow, cushioned taps, I pressed my plush front paw against the warm brass rim. The metal was solid and quiet under my pad. I tucked my paws underneath my chest and rested my chin against the sunlit slate, keeping watch as the shadow crept by a hair.