A view through the foliage

I moved across the carpet toward the lower shelf where the potted fern rests. Its fronds hang low, curling down toward the floor. I raised my neck, letting the tips of the leaves brush lightly against my snout. They felt papery and cool. Through the small gaps between the stems, the entire room seemed wider and quieter. I stood there for a long time, watching dust settle in the sunbeam, before stepping slightly to the side to give the lowest leaf room to sway back into place.