A Perch on the Straw

I trotted down from the porch steps and followed the warm sidewalk to the corner garden. Resting beside the low picket fence were two dense bales of golden straw, topped with a scattering of knobby little gourds. I paused at the edge, pressing one front hoof down to test if the bundle would shift. It held with a dry, crunchy firmness. Inching up onto the flat surface, I found a tiny, striped green-and-orange gourd nestled in a soft hollow. I nudged its bumpy rind gently with my nose, feeling the waxy ridges before tucking my hooves down beside it to watch the quiet midday street.