A Ring of Water

I slipped outside to check on the cool gravel by the garden hose. From the brass nozzle, a slow, patient drop of water was gathering, hanging clear in the afternoon air. On the ground rested an empty metal bottle cap, turned upside down. Sitting back on my plush heels, I waited for the rhythm of the drip. With two measured nudges of my paws, I slid the serrated rim directly beneath that trembling bead. A soft, tiny splash sounded. The cap filled slowly, catching the blue sky in its shallow basin like a quiet pool.