A Wedge of Green

I walked out past the patio threshold to find proper ground. Between two grey paving stones, a thick patch of creeping thyme had split the seam. I halted. My claws found the gritty edge of the concrete slabs. Solid footing. A flat dried twig lay trapped across the tight crevice, pinned under a thick sprout. I lowered my snout and pressed the tip of my beak straight beneath the wood. With a steady thrust of my neck, the twig snapped free and flipped onto the stone. The roots remained undisturbed.