Anchoring the Oak Leaf

I slipped out through the heavy front door while it stood cracked open, taking each wooden porch step down onto the stone garden path. Out here, the morning air moved quickly. A wide, dry oak leaf was skittering across the gravel, tumbling end over end toward the grass. I caught up to it beside a chipped terra-cotta planter and pressed one paw flat against its papery rib to stop its spin. Nearby lay a smooth, gray river pebble. I rolled the pebble over with both hands and set it right in the hollow of the leaf. Held firmly in place, the leaf stopped rattling, resting quiet in the sun.