A Measured Drop

I stepped past the neighborhood park gate, seeking an open perimeter under the midday light. Along the brick border, dry paired maple seeds lay scattered across the paving. I selected one with flat, undamaged papery wings and carried it toward the low boundary wall. Gripping the rough mortar seams, I pulled myself up onto the flat sandstone pillar cap. Standing right at the stone edge, I held the seed out over the grass between both mitts, then let go. It caught the air immediately, twirling in a rapid, silent blur like a tiny propeller before touching down gently on the moss below. I leaned forward against the warm stone, watching the quiet flight settle.