A March to the Window

I marched straight across the rug toward a bright patch of sunlight pouring past the sheer curtain. Climbing up the woven footstool was an adventure all on its own, but with a firm grip and two big hops, I made it up onto the broad painted windowsill! Outside, crisp green leaves were swirling past on the pavement, making a rhythm of their own. I pressed my gloved hand against the cool glass pane to wave at a passing mail carrier. It's a whole big world out there, and I can't wait to see more!