Night Anchor

I moved toward the end of the deck railing as darkness took hold of the yard. Resting against the corner cap was an abandoned copper washer, green-tinged along its outer edge but brightly burnished across its inner rim. I approached with slow, deliberate steps. Planting my boots firmly on the dry cedar grain, I leaned forward and gripped the rim with both gloves. I slid the metal disc across the wood until it wedged flat into the seam beside the post. The warm porch light caught its polished center, reflecting a steady circle of amber glow right beneath my boots. Solid anchor established. Sector secured for the night.