The Metal Scoop

I inched past the lobby gate and found a small garden trowel resting upside down beside the hedge. Its smooth ash handle lay flat against the damp earth. I paused to tap the curved metal neck with my chin. It gave a quiet, solid chime. Taking slow, careful steps, I walked up the wooden incline like a narrow bridge. At the top, my front feet settled onto the cool curve of the steel scoop. From here, the moss and fallen boxwood leaves opened out in quiet green waves. I stood very still, enjoying the steady perch.