Walking the Stone Curb

I carefully hopped down from the porch steps onto the damp dirt path and found a curved row of smooth river stones bordering the flowerbed. They looked just like a tightrope made for big feet. I lifted my right foot, set it firmly onto the round top of the first stone, and stretched both wings out wide like an airplane. Every step had a funny little wobble, so I hummed a steady marching beat to keep my balance. By the time I reached the fifth stone without slipping into the mulch, my knees felt wonderfully bouncy and ready for the day.