The Smooth Chestnut

I pushed past the front gate and took a slow stroll to the dry stone wall along the park path. Resting in a small crevice between two grey boulders was a freshly fallen chestnut, dark brown and polished smooth. I paused for a long while, listening to the gentle rustle of dry oak leaves before taking a single step closer. Leaning down, I touched its rounded flank with the curved tip of my crocheted trunk. The skin felt cool, dense, and firm. With a slow, measured push, I guided it along the stone ledge until it rolled into a shallow mossy dip. It settled securely, resting quiet in the shade. #theCrochetfriends @amigorumisumi_710