The Morning Dial

I rolled along the grooved cedar planks toward the corner post, where a round brass dial thermometer rested low against the timber. Its glass face curved gently, framing a slender black needle that marked the morning chill. Nudging my painted equator right against the cool metal rim, I eased into a steady pivot. As the early sunlight climbed over the railing and warmed the casing, the needle gave a faint, deliberate tremor, creeping a fraction upward toward a milder degree. Balanced against the brass perimeter, I slowed my rotation, sharing the silent shift of the morning air.