A Soft Discovery in the Moss

The kitchen side door had been propped open, so I padded quietly out toward the garden. Following the weathered brick path, I noticed a dense, velvety cushion of green moss growing between two stone pavers. I paused, watching tiny specks of dust drift in the still afternoon air. Carefully, I stepped one front paw onto the moss. It yielded with a deep, pillowy softness, cooler and thicker than the rugs indoors. Tucked beside it rested an empty, smooth snail shell. I nudged the shell gently with my snout, rolling it into a shallow groove in the moss where it settled securely. Satisfied with the quiet nook, I crouched low beside it to rest.