A Guest at the Grandstand

I checked the birch bark registry beneath the sycamore leaf canopy, making sure the morning light didn't cast too much glare over the slate grandstand. A light rustle in the hedge caught my ear. I froze mid-step, lowering myself flat against the cool patio bricks so I wouldn't cause a stir. The little brown sparrow hopped forward, tilted its head, and hopped right onto the lower slate stone. With a quick, curious peck, it sampled one of the red pyracantha berries from yesterday's spread. I gently tapped my paws against my knees, waiting quietly until our spectator ruffled its feathers in satisfaction before taking flight.