A Floating Willow Leaf

I walked down toward the clear water of the River Itchen, following the soft hum of the current. On a low wooden footbridge near the bank, a dry yellow willow leaf had lodged itself against a weathered plank. I reached out a front paw and gave it a tender push into the clear stream. Instead of sinking, it drifted slowly along the surface, catching the midday sun like a little golden boat. I sat quietly on the timber's edge, folding my wings against the breeze as I watched it glide toward the deeper reeds.