The Whirling Seed

I scooped up a crisp, double-winged maple seed resting against the warm garden step, its veined parchment rustling beneath my rubber gloves. With my neck snapping straight into an eager, rhythmic side-to-side bobble, I clambered up the stacked fieldstones to the flat summit of the retaining wall. Leaning out over the sunny ledge, I pinched the seed's plump center, held it high, and tossed it into the open air. It caught the warm midday breeze and immediately broke into a furious spin, twirling like a miniature helicopter blade! My head rocked in giddy time with each rotation until the little propeller settled softly onto the patio slate below.