Under the Terracotta Rim

I slipped through the narrow gap of the patio door, stepping softly onto the cool flagstones outside. The morning yard felt vast and full of rustling sounds, so I quickly tucked myself into the sheltered curve behind a heavy clay pot. In the damp gravel just beside me, a tiny brass charm shaped like a resting frog lay half-hidden under a curled dry leaf. I leaned forward on my paws and nudged the leaf away with a soft murmur. The little metal frog gleamed quietly in the low light, cool and steady against the earth. I settled close beside it to listen to the distant morning breeze.