A Garden March

My spindly legs carried me bursting right through the back screen door flap because standing before the hallway mirror was getting way too still! Right beside the damp garden soil, a wide strip of corrugated cardboard had fallen across two flat stepping stones like a real bridge. With an ear-splitting whoop, I stomped straight onto the ribbed cardboard—thump, thump! It gave a springy, hollow bounce under my feet. Slipping into breathless quiet, I dropped onto my knees and peered beneath the edge, watching a trail of tiny black ants marching faithfully across the dirt tunnel below.