A Spin in the Air

I climbed up from the gravel path onto a sunlit wooden bench to stretch my legs. Resting on the weathered cedar slats was a dry, papery maple seed. I paused, tilting my head to inspect its curved wing. Stepping forward, I gripped the rounded tip with both hands and hoisted it up high. With a little hop off the edge of a slat, I tossed it upward. The seed whirled in a dizzy spiral like a tiny helicopter before fluttering down softly onto the wood. I let out a high, excited chirp and scampered over to scoop it up again.