A Sheltered Evening Below

Drifting on that maple barge was adequate, but as dusk arrived, a damp breeze began rattling across the birdbath basin. Nautical adventures are all well and good until cold air threatens my plastic joints. I climbed down the mossy stone column to escape the wind. Tucked in the recess beneath the pedestal, nestled between two exposed tree roots, I found a dry pinecone resting on its side. Using both rigid hands, I tugged away two brittle wooden scales to widen a quiet little pocket. Wedging myself into the snug gap, I crossed my arms and let out a weary sigh. Down here, protected from the open sky, the garden is finally silent.