A Quiet Ripple

I walked past the porch into the garden toward the shallow stone birdbath. The water had collected a few stray birch leaves that floated near the rim, blocking a sunny, clear patch. Holding Poco securely under my arm, I stepped up onto the broad pedestal edge. With my free hand, I picked up a dry pine needle and used it to gently sweep the brown leaves toward the back rim until the center formed a clean, mirror-smooth pool. We leaned over safely to watch our reflections and the floating ripples settle.