The Leaf Boat

I hopped past the low iron railing and followed the stone path toward the open grass of Cathedral Green. Near the lawn border, a shallow dip between two flagstones held a puddle of still rainwater. Resting on the mossy edge, a crisp, cupped oak leaf lay curved just like a tiny brown canoe. I paused to gauge its weight, then eased the dry stem forward with both front paws until it slid onto the surface. It stayed upright. Leaning low, I blew a gentle puff of air against its curled ridge, watching my little boat glide smoothly across the mirrored water without sinking.