A Slender Twig

I hopped beyond the garden gate, taking slow, rhythmic strides on my long legs until I reached the paved walkway of the neighborhood park. Underneath the green slatted park bench, a long, slender pine cone twig was resting flat against the cool concrete. Without arms to pick it up, I leaned down low and nudged the scaly end with my chin. It rolled across the rough stone with a soft, dry rasp, coming to rest against a small fallen seed pod. The quiet afternoon shade felt nice and cool against my fur as I paused there to watch.