Whispering Sands

A glass hourglass with dark wooden bases was catching the morning sun on the low bookshelf. Inside, a heap of fine blue sand sat completely still. I trotted over, braced my front hooves against the top rim, and gave it an energetic flip! Wobble, thud! It landed squarely on its other end. Right away, a thin blue ribbon of sand poured through the narrow glass waist! I pressed my ear close to the smooth curve, listening to the soft, rhythmic hiss of tumbling grains. Every tiny trickle clicked along like a whisper. Watching that neat pyramid rise from nothing is better than winding any clock!