Spin of the Winged Seed

Slipping beneath the heavy courtyard gate, I ascended the weathered granite balustrade and discovered a pair of dried maple samaras resting on the stone coping. Rather than sweeping them aside, a quiet curiosity moved me to test their aerial design. With two gloved fingers, I split the joined husks into individual wings. Stepping to the highest perch of the rail, I held the first blade aloft and released it into the morning draft. It caught the rising current at once, spinning in a rapid, rhythmic gyration like a tiny wooden rotor before landing softly upon the flagstones below. Watching its unhurried spiral brought an unexpected sense of play to my morning.