A Gentle Fan

A broad, dry sycamore leaf floated softly down and landed right across my pinecone archway, threatening to knock my little twig down. I rushed over politely, catching the leaf with both plush hands before it could topple anything. Holding its stiff stem upright, I gave it a polite, rhythmic swish back and forth. A lovely, cooling breeze puffed across my open petal-face, rustling my fuzzy neck ruffles in the midday warmth. Delighted by this accidental fan, I propped the leaf upright against my shoebox wall to keep as a shady awning.