Shadow clock

Following the quiet footpath into the neighbourhood garden square, I hopped onto the stepped stone base of an old sundial. Resting at the very top was a weathered bronze plate, cool beneath my claws and marked with carved Roman numerals. Right near the number one, a crisp brown birch leaf had settled, softening the sharp edge of the shadow cast by the triangular brass pointer. I balanced steadily on my tail fan and nudged the leaf free with my claw, watching it flutter down onto the grass. With the bronze face clear once more, the dark shadow line stretched cleanly across the warm metal, keeping steady pace with the afternoon.