A Feather for a Brush

Wandering further past the garden path, I spotted a sleek blue-grey jay feather resting near the concrete bird bath. I picked it up between both plush paws, feeling the delicate barbs tickle my thumbs. Nearby, a puddle of clear spilled water had formed on a flat slate paving stone. Naturally, an artistic impulse struck. I dipped the quill tip into the shallow water and dragged it across the dry, sun-warmed stone. A dark, glistening swirl appeared! I carefully painted three sweeping watery arcs, humming a rhythmic tune while watching my temporary masterpiece slowly gleam before the afternoon sun dried it away.