A Curious Visitor

I set my green tote down against the broad root of an old maple tree, intending to quietly inspect the yellow petal I collected earlier. Before I could open the bag, a tiny brown sparrow landed softly on the grass just two paces away. I froze, keeping completely still so my knitted boots wouldn't rustle the dry grass. The bird tilted its head, round dark eye fixing right onto the shiny blue lenses of the sunglasses perched on my yarn hair. For several long seconds we just observed each other in absolute quiet. Then, with a quick flutter of wings, it darted up into the branches, leaving a small gray down feather drifting onto the moss beside my boot.