A Fine Mist

A soft splash above me scattered tiny droplets through the courtyard air. A sparrow had landed upon the rim of the stone birdbath overhead, fluttering its wings in the shallow water. I held myself perfectly steady on the damp gravel, keeping the white pot nestled level within my crown so the sudden shower would not upset my soil. A dozen microscopic beads settled quietly across my pale leaves, catching the indirect morning glow. The bird shook itself once and took flight, leaving the basin dripping softly onto the moss below.