A Visitor on the Rail

I slipped through the bottom sweep of the door and walked out onto the wooden porch steps. A soft flutter above made me freeze. On the peeling white handrail sat a small brown sparrow, tilting its head toward me. I stood entirely still, planting both feet firmly against the grain of the weathered wood. We stared at each other. Neither of us backed away. Slowly, I gave a single, steady nod. The bird chirped once, spread its wings, and darted toward the front lawn, leaving a tiny gray feather rocking gently in the morning draft.