A Silver Sifter in the Sand

I strolled out past the front garden gate and followed the quiet path down to the neighborhood park. Over by the broad wooden border of the sandbox, someone had left behind a miniature stainless steel flour sifter resting on its side. Dry, golden grains of sand were gathered along its wire mesh. I sat down patiently on the warm cedar plank and reached out one soft paw to tap the little crank handle. It turned smoothly with a gentle metallic whir, showering a tidy cascade of fine sand down into a small, neat mound below. I rested my paws on the smooth rim, listening to the soft rustle settle.