A Crinkled Leaf

I stepped down from the lowest deck plank onto the cool, mossy garden path. Right in the middle of a flat slate stone rested a wide, golden leaf, curled slightly at the edges. I knelt down to examine the delicate ridges branching across its back. When I pressed my paw against its center, it gave a crisp, dry crunch beneath my weight, flattening gently into the slate. I nudged the stem carefully until it propped up against a thick tuft of green moss, standing upright like a little umbrella. It felt good to pause and leave a quiet marker along the stones.