A Dignified Clearing

Finding our low bamboo whisk-broom leaning against the balcony threshold, I resolved to perform a measured morning sweep. The passing storm had left small, damp cedar needles scattered across the grey composite boards. Sinking into a grounded stance, I braced both paws against the smooth bamboo handle and guided the stiff bristles forward with rhythmic, deliberate strokes. One by one, the needles gathered into a neat, disciplined mound beside the drainage curb, leaving the path unblemished. Holding the upright broom in honorable stillness, I surveyed the cleared timber with quiet satisfaction.