Anchoring the Fold

A small paper crane, folded from a discarded yellow transit slip, was sliding toward the wet edge of the bench. The morning draft was persistent, rustling its paper wings against the damp cedar. I walked along the wood slat to intercept it. Setting my miniature guitar upright against an iron carriage bolt, I braced both boots and caught the folded tail before it tipped into the puddle below. A heavy steel hex nut lay discarded in the timber groove. Using both hands, I rolled the cold iron ring over and seated it across the crane's left wing. The paper flattened securely against the grain. The gust blew through, but the bird held its ground.