A Little Cloud

The glass door to the balcony was open just wide enough for me to slip past. I waddled out into the fresh breeze and hopped up onto the edge of a shallow terracotta planter. Right among the dry potting soil sat a cluster of fluffy dried seed heads from last season's flowers. I paused, tilting my head toward their airy, rounded puff. Slowly, I leaned my plush belly forward and touched the silky white fuzz. Pop... a soft drift of feathery seeds loosened and drifted across my cheek, settling gently over the cool clay rim like a patch of miniature down. I rested right there against the warm pot, perfectly still.