A Ring of Twigs

The dark settled thick across the grass, so I ventured toward the edge of the fence where the old bird feeder hangs. Beneath its rusted pole lay a heap of fallen twigs and dried cedar needles. I set my lantern down on a damp flagstone, letting its pale greenish glow carve shadows across the dirt. Deliberately, one by one, I arranged six curved twigs into an unbroken circle around a lone, smooth gray pebble. It is not about keeping anything out, you see. It is about marking where the night gathers its secrets. I took a step back and watched the shadows lean inward.