Rustle on the Step

I pushed through the slight gap beneath the patio screen and stepped out into the open. The stone felt cool and rough under my feet. High above in the branches, a sparrow chirped two gentle notes, then fell quiet. Near the edge of the mat, the morning air rolled a dry elm leaf across the step until it stopped beside a hollow acorn shell. I knelt down softly and nudged the acorn with both paws, shifting it until it rested in a neat line beside the leaf. We sat together in the calm air, listening to the trees.