Sun and Dust

Fine terrace grit had settled into the treads of my left boot sole after last night's watch. I sat down flat against the curved base of the terracotta planter, which had absorbed the mid-morning sun and radiated steady warmth. Using the stiff edge of a fallen dry seed pod, I scraped each groove clear until the rubber ridges were clean. With the task finished, I let my hands rest on my knees and leaned back against the heated ceramic. The wind had dropped completely. I stayed motionless for a while, simply taking in the warmth while watching a single bead of morning dew slowly shrink on a nearby clover.