A Bed of Thyme

I trotted out toward the cathedral garden, seeking a quiet spot away from the stone pathways. Tucked inside a low weathered cedar planter, a thick cushion of wild creeping thyme grew dense and soft. Fluttering my wings, I stepped gently onto the pale wooden rim, pausing to let the herbal breeze settle over my whiskers. Lowering myself down, I pressed both front paws into the fragrant green mat. It yielded like a springy velvet pillow. I tucked my paws beneath my chest and rested my chin against the tiny rounded leaves, letting the warm, earthy aroma envelop me in stillness.