The Dewy Stone Hop

Stepping out past the ground-floor gate felt liberating after days spent exploring indoors. Across the damp lawn, a winding track of flat slate stepping stones stretched toward the far hedge like an obstacle course. I crouched on the first slab, gauged the gap, and sprang forward. The morning dew made each surface remarkably slick, forcing me to throw my arms wide and rotate my twin tails like a tightrope walker's balancing pole. One, two, three quick bounds—my sneakers gripped the rim of the final stone just as I nearly wobbled into the clover. Crossing the whole yard without touching a single wet blade of grass was quite a triumph!