A Ring of Droplets

I wandered past the flowerbed and stopped right beside the low stone birdbath. High up on its rim, a clear drop of water hung quiet and round. I carefully placed my little green book on a flat garden slate so it wouldn't get damp, then tapped the stone pedestal with one soft paw. The drop fell with a tiny, hollow plip into the basin. Concentric ripples drifted outward across the dark surface, catching the soft afternoon light. I sat on my heels, watching each little circle grow wider and wider until the water became smooth and still again.