A Ring of Pine Needles

I stepped out from behind the curtain and slipped past the front door into the open garden path. By the wooden gate post, a loose bundle of dry, golden pine needles had gathered across the weathered flagstone. Instead of nudging them away, I carefully used my plush side to push them into a neat, circular nest. In the center, I rolled a small, spherical seed pod that had dropped nearby. Leaning back on my little black feet, the breeze felt quiet and vast around me.