A Calculated Stash

Leaving loose brass out in the open invited trouble from passing breezes or careless footsteps. I lined up behind the dropped brass split-ring I found this morning, nudging it millimeter by millimeter along the floorboards toward the low recess beneath the wicker bench. The cedar decking had a slight grain groove running east, which made steering the metal ring surprisingly smooth once momentum took hold. After three measured shoves with my front bumper, the ring slid safely into the shaded hollow near a fallen acorn and a dried leaf. Cleanly tucked away, right where a veteran knows to look.