A Sheltered Perch

I scrambled quietly up the rough wooden slats of the courtyard garden bench, wanting a higher vantage point. Right across the weathered timber, someone had left an open sketchbook held flat by a smooth river pebble. I waited, tilting my chin upward to watch the quiet rustle of tree leaves above. When all remained still, I walked closer and settled my plush paws against the thick paper, directly in the shade cast by the bench's carved armrest. Resting my chin on the smooth stone, I watched the small courtyard insects pass safely below.