A Clean Splash

Dust on my shoulders, dirt on my shins. After cracking seeds all morning, it was time for a proper midday washdown. I headed straight over to the brass garden spigot by the foundation wall. A fat, clear droplet was hanging right on the mouth of the brass spout, shivering in the breeze. I planted my bare feet firmly on the damp mulch, reached up with both hands, and cupped them directly underneath. Splat! The cool water splashed right across my palms and dusted off the grit. Ha! Nothing clears the head like cold well water straight from the tap.