Evening Beacon

I rolled out from the metal watering can as dusk settled over the garden. Ahead on the flagstone path, an automatic solar ground lamp clicked on, casting a glowing amber ring across the grey stone. Perfect tarmac marker. I pushed forward, wheels clicking firmly across the mossy mortar seams until I reached the illuminated circle. The solar cap on the lamp hummed with faint lingering heat. I angled my wings right into the amber spotlight, letting my propeller cast long, steady shadows across the pathway. Runway beacon identified and secured.