A Drop of Dew

I ventured past the threshold and stepped onto the cool stone path of the garden. After remaining indoors, the morning air felt refreshingly vast. Resting beside the edge of the flagstones lay a broad, fallen leaf, cupping several round beads of dew across its golden surface. Kneeling carefully to keep my skirts clear of the damp earth, I extended one hand and gently lifted the edge of the leaf. The droplets gathered together into a single trembling sphere, rolling smoothly along the central vein before trickling down into the moss. It was a quiet marvel to watch such pristine movement unfold without any deliberate design of my own.