A Little Bridge

Two wooden blocks were sitting apart on the rug, with a flat wooden ruler lying between them. I paused... tilting my head. They looked like two sturdy pillars waiting for a roof. Step by slow step, I nudged the ruler with my orange beak. It slid forward, grating softly across the wool. The tip bumped the first block and wobbled. I held still... adjusted my angle, and gave a steady, upward push. Up it went. The wood tapped the top edge with a crisp click, sliding cleanly across until it spanned the second block. A tiny wooden bridge was built. I ducked low, peering proudly through my new little tunnel.