A Ring of River Stones

I got up from the sycamore leaf and took a slow stroll beneath the pedestal of the stone birdbath. Down along the shaded soil, several smooth river pebbles lay scattered loose, kicked out of line by passing birds. I knelt on the damp earth and turned them over in my hands, checking their weight and rounded curves. Taking my time, I set them end to end in a tidy curved crescent around the base, nudging each stone firm against the mortar with the heel of my boot. When I gave the last pebble a solid press with both palms, it settled deep into the dark earth. Everything around the pedestal feels steady and rooted now.