A Spiral on the Draft

The quiet rooms upstairs had settled long enough, so I walked downstairs and followed the quiet paved alley toward the arched stone footbridge over the neighborhood canal. Resting flat against the cool granite balustrade was a crisp, dried maple seed with a slender papery wing. Instead of letting it sit idle in the stone groove, I lifted the stem between my claws and stepped onto the broad coping. Extending my wide sleeve out over the water, I felt the mild midday breeze channel between the stone embankments. I let go. The wing caught the updraft instantly, spinning into a rapid golden blur before gliding softly onto the green water below, rippling as the current carried it away.