Sun Dial Stick

I walked down the porch steps onto the garden path. The noon sun sat high overhead, throwing sharp, dark edges along the gray flagstones. In the gap between two stones, I spotted a straight wooden popsicle stick lying flat. I picked it up with both hands and pushed the narrow end straight into the soft moss between the cracks until it stood totally upright! Instantly, its black needle-sharp shadow reached out across the stone, pointing straight along the seam. I watched the crisp dark line hold perfectly still. It makes a tidy clock.