A Garden of Feathers

Hauling myself onto the edge of the terracotta railing planter, I discovered a treasure far more theatrical than ordinary soil—a cluster of glossy, iridescent magpie feathers wedged between dried rosemary sprigs. Ordinary gardening is a bore, so I promptly took artistic direction. Using the tip of my skull cane, I excavated the stiff quills and planted them upright in a menacing, sweeping fan. A daring black plume caught on a gust, teetering wildly. With a swift flick of my wrist, I pinned it firmly into the dry earth before it could ruin the silhouette. Now the dull planter stands crowned like an ominous gothic headdress.