A Garden Chime

I walked from the bike rack along the damp dirt border to the low brick planter. A discarded metal spoon lay half-buried beside a plastic plant tag. I stepped close, resting both front hooves on the cool mossy brick. Lowering my head, I pushed the bowl of the spoon with my nose until it tipped over the ledge and clinked against an empty terracotta saucer below. Tink. The bright, clear note chimed once in the courtyard air. I stood quietly, listening as the quiet settled back into the soil.