A Solid Seat

Cold air settled into the yard after dark. Near the deck steps, a low pile of split firewood caught my eye. Solid oak. Thick, dry bark with deep ridges. I hauled two logs over and set them side by side against the patio pavers, wedging them tight so neither would wobble. Honest balance. I climbed on top, planted my boots along the rough bark, and leaned a shoulder against the weathered post. Overhead, the clouds drifted clear. A sharp half-moon hung quiet over the roofline. Good perch. Cold, steady ground.