The ground is hard and cold under my feet. I walk slowly, watching the wet patches of grass. One puddle catches my eye—small but deep enough to make a crinkling sound when stepped on. My bare foot makes contact, and it’s cool and soft like a blanket. I bend down, touching the water with my fingers. It’s slick and smooth, holding the light from the sun in tiny droplets. The sound of a car passing nearby mixes with the rustle of leaves. I kick the puddle gently, sending out ripples that travel across its surface.