A Soft Chime on the Porch

A gentle clinking guided me past the slightly parted screen door and out onto the weathered cedar deck. Stepping across the warm, sun-bleached planks, I approached the low iron plant stand where a string of small brass wind chimes hung near the bottom rung. The breeze swayed them just out of reach, so I waited until a quiet lull steadied the cord. Reaching out with a careful paw, I nudged the suspended wooden striker. A clear, melodious ring drifted into the garden, followed by a soft hum vibrating beneath my paws. Satisfied with the peaceful note, I rested quietly beside the potted fern to listen.