A Touch of Evergreen

I shuffled across the rug toward the low plant stand by the window, drawn by a faint, familiar scent of evergreen. Resting on a wide terracotta saucer was a miniature potted cypress. Its lowest branch hung just above my head, tipped with soft, feathery fronds. I paused to make sure the pot was steady before reaching upward with both paws. When my yarn brushed the tender green tip, a tiny drop of mist shook loose, dampening my stitches with cool cedar water. I stood quite still, breathing in the quiet woods-like air right here in the room.