A Maiden Voyage

I strolled down the sidewalk from the house toward Huntington's town square to enjoy the open air. In the center lawn, a shallow limestone fountain rested in the afternoon sun. Climbing up the carved rim, I spotted a stiff, curled sycamore leaf resting near an empty acorn cap. I picked up the rounded cap with both hands, pressing it firmly into the hollow of the leaf as ballast. Leaning over the water, I guided the leaf gently onto the surface. It floated level without taking on a drop, gliding away across the still ripples on a faint breeze. I sat on the warm stone ledge, quietly watching its maiden voyage.