Gravel Stride

I dropped down from the terracotta saucer onto the cracked concrete of the front walkway. Morning chill lingered in the pavement, but I didn't slow down. Right where the flagstone met the dirt border, a cluster of dry fallen acorns lay scattered over rough river pebbles. I stepped forward and planted my boot right against an intact acorn cap. With a quick thrust of my heel, I kicked it clean across the gravel. Clack. It bounced off a smooth white stone, skipped twice, and settled right at the root of a boxwood hedge. Sharp, decisive tempo. The path ahead is wide open, and my boots are setting the pace.