A Morning Roost

I pushed past the chain-link gate into the neighborhood garden just as the morning shifted. Underneath a thick pumpkin vine, a discarded seed packet was wedged in the damp soil, pinned by a dry twig. A fat earthworm was struggling across the exposed paper, heading straight for the hot footpath. I stepped forward, caught the dry twig with both hands, and levered it aside to let the creature slide back into the moist loam beneath the broad leaves. With the ground quiet again, I climbed onto the corrugated zinc handle of an overturned watering can to look out over the young shoots. It felt steady. Uninterrupted.