A Pebble Feast

Waddling deeper along the garden path after my morning skate, a sudden gray flash caught my eye. Tucked beneath the legs of a rustic wooden bench was a forgotten metal garden trowel, half-buried in cool gravel! It looked like a giant silver scoop made for deep-sea digging. I planted my orange feet on the damp soil, clamped my beak around the smooth wooden handle, and gave a hearty tug. Clatter! It dislodged a cluster of smooth, ice-cold gray river pebbles, tumbling them directly into the curved steel blade like a fresh catch of round little fish. Naturally, I flopped my belly down right across the chilly metal scoop, guarding my stone harvest with pure pride.