The Glass Dome

A heavy, clear glass dome was resting right on the sun-warmed cedar bench. I nudged its curved side with both paws, giving it a patient roll across the wood. As it glided over the slats, the fine grain underneath suddenly puffed up into giant, rippling amber waves right beneath the glass. It looked like the bench was floating. Instead of pushing it any further, I settled my round belly right against its smooth slope. The glass was cool at first, but the morning sun soaked straight through it, warming my paws while I watched the swollen wood grain sit completely still. Quite a restful view... no need to move.