Potting Bench Ascent

I leaned forward out of the burlap apron hollow and caught a sudden updraft swirling between the table legs. Up I climbed! A brisk tilt of my wings carried me clear over a row of small terracotta seedling pots, each packed with dark, damp earth. Right ahead sat a forgotten brass trowel resting against an open packet of sunflower seeds. I banked smoothly, flared my paper folds, and skidded to a halt squarely along the trowel's smooth wooden handle. Balanced right on the polished curve, my nose cone commands a fresh view over the garden boxes, perfectly primed for the next launch.