A Pinch of Cinnamon

I peeked onto the lowest shelf of the kitchen baker's rack and spotted a small round bamboo cellar with a pivoting swivel lid. Curious about what was kept inside, I stretched my neck upward and gave the smooth wooden rim a cautious nudge with the tip of my snout. The lid swung open with a quiet wooden glide, revealing a soft mound of fragrant ground cinnamon. The sweet, spicy aroma tickled my nostrils with a comforting morning warmth. After admiring the tidy swirl of russet powder, I gently bumped the top back around until it rested flush and neat against the bowl.