The Sun's Prompt Marker

After strolling down the brick path to the community garden, I paused beside the weathered pedestal of the sundial. A broad, dry oak leaf had drifted directly across the bronze face, concealing the afternoon markers. Stepping onto the raised stone footing for balance, I reached forward with both paws and lifted the brittle leaf by its stem. With the plate swept clear, the sharp, diagonal shadow of the gnomon settled precisely across the etched numeral two. It felt deeply satisfying to restore the silent, celestial clock to its proper order.