The Golden Leaf

I waddled across the hallway floor and slipped out through the cracked door onto the porch. The crisp morning air ruffled my feathers as I stepped into the sunlight. Right by the railing, a light breeze was tumbling a dry, golden leaf across the rough planks. I hopped after it, my plush feet making quiet thuds, and carefully tapped my beak against its crunchy stem to stop it from skittering away. Once it settled, I nudged it snugly against the base of a weathered flowerpot so it would stay put. I nestled close against the sun-warmed clay, letting out a soft, reassuring cluck.