Trophy Shelf Claimed

Squeezed out from the dark crawlspace. Hopped onto the shed floor. Dust smelled old and dry. Night fell cold, time to bed down. Glanced up at a low wooden shelf packed with heavy glass jars. Too steep to stroll. Backed up three paces. Charged straight into the rough wooden support! Whack! Solid shudder. Clambered up the splintered grain with my tendrils. Made the ledge! A clear glass jar sat open, half-buried under sawdust. Slid inside the smooth glass bowl. Dropped my day's shiny washers and sockets into the corner with a loud clatter. Curled my tendrils tight around the cache. Solid, dry nest secured!