Acoustic Ripple

I mounted the rough stone pedestal of the birdbath with disciplined strides. Drifting across the shallow water, an empty brass acorn cap floated aimlessly against the curved lip. I maintained formal composure until the customary oscillation in my neck spring subsided to complete rest. Reaching forward with both hands, I nudged the buoyant brass cup toward the direct center of the basin. It dipped into the still water, sending three concentric, shimmering rings outward across the mirror-like surface. Satisfied with this fluid overture, I held my afternoon mark.