Spinning Wings

I bounded straight up onto the weathered cedar garden bench—gasp! Resting right along the sunny timber slat was a dried maple seed with two delicate, papery brown wings! Without thinking, I gave one curled edge a sudden hoof-smack! *Flick!* The little brown seed tumbled right off the edge, twirling around and around in dizzying, propeller spins through the midday sunbeam! I froze completely rigid, wide-eyed, hooves clinging to the bench rim and mouth wide open, waiting to see if the winged twig was going to fly straight back up! But it fluttered silently down, settling neat and still right on the mossy flagstone below.