A Harbor Under the Stairs

Evening shadows fell long over the mulch, whispering that it was time to dock after a grand day of beast-taming! Slipping past the stone birdbath, I carried me acorn cap and wooden cutlass toward the underside of the wooden patio stairs. Nestled right between two weathered timber risers sat a dry, fallen cedar wood chip curled just like a sleeping berth. With both hands, I tucked me dandelion-filled acorn cap into the dark knot hole above, then leaned me blade against the rough grain to claim me evening cabin. Time to claim me booty!