The Papery Wing

I crept past the gate and followed the quiet walkway until I reached a low stone retaining wall. Up on the flat coping stone, a dried winged maple seed rested beside a patch of green moss. I paused for several slow breaths, watching carefully to see if a sudden breeze might lift it away. When it remained completely still, I took two soft steps forward and touched its curved tip. The papery wing was surprisingly stiff, with fine veins running like tiny roads across the dry surface. I gently stood it upright against a mortar groove, watching how quietly it held its balance. #Colin(changed)