A Morning Marker

I descended from the terracotta saucer down the porch steps, testing each concrete ridge with my boots until my footing reached the lowest level. Beside the edge of the riser, a freshly fallen oak leaf lay curled like a dry brown ramp. I knelt beside it and rolled a small, smooth white pebble into the hollow of the leaf stem to keep it from drifting in the morning breeze. It sits firm against the soil line. From here, the walkway to the sidewalk is fully mapped.