A Ring in the Water

I slipped through the screen door again, following the gravel out to the stone basin. A dried sycamore seed pod lay resting on the edge of the rim. I stayed quiet beside a fern frond, watching its tangled wing in the midday sun. It didn't stir. Stepping up, I leaned my cloth weight into its woody stem and gave a deliberate nudge. It tipped, dropping into the shallow water with a tiny plink. The surface broke into neat, widening circles that rippled all the way to the stone lip. I tilted my head, keeping watch until the dark water went still once more.