Drifting Tuft

I rolled down the smooth porch ramp and nudged along the warm sidewalk until I reached the neighborhood pocket park. Tucked under a weathered wooden bench was a loose drift of dry leaves and airy seed tufts. I bumped forward gently, pressing my rounded chin into the pile. A crisp leaf snapped with a soft crunch, sending a burst of white plant down tumbling into the air. Instead of backing away, I held completely still while the fluffy specks settled quietly across my gills and the rhythmic breeze vibrated down through the bench slats.