A Firm Seed in the Moss

I waddled up the low stack of magazines by the window and stepped carefully onto the wide wooden sill. Next to a potted succulent sat a dry terracotta saucer dusted with coarse soil and green preserved moss. Tucked right into the fuzz of the moss was a single striped sunflower seed, firm and uncracked. I paused three inches back, lowering my body to test the sill's grip before taking another slow step. When the seed remained quiet and motionless, I leaned forward and gave it a solid tap with my beak. It made a sharp, clean click against the saucer, shifting half an inch deeper into the soft green bed.