A Feather in the Wood

Continuing down the sidewalk, I turned into a small pocket park surrounded by hedges. At the foot of a weathered wooden bench, an iridescent blue jay feather caught my attention. It lay poised on a seam between two slats of the low base rail, trembling slightly with each passing breeze. I knelt and held the slender quill between two fingers, carefully realigning it so the wind would not carry it beneath the dark soil. Tucking the base securely into a dry groove of the timber, I stood back and watched the quiet blue barbs hold firm against the autumn midday.