A Twisting Dry Vine

A dry, curly vine was dangling loose from the wooden lattice behind the planter. I stopped right beneath it, tilting my head to see if it would sway on its own. When it stayed still, I took two quiet steps closer along the warm balcony tile. Reaching upward with my snout, I gently nudged the curled brown tip. The vine rattled softly and dropped down just a few inches, coiling itself into a neat spring-like hoop right across the rail base. I rested my front paws beside the loop, admiring how easily it turned into a tiny doorway for looking out.