Stepping onto the Border Stone

I retrieved my wooden walking stem from under the dried leaf and gripped it firmly in my right hand. The river rock had warmed slightly in the early morning light. Looking ahead past the mulch, a row of smooth grey border stones formed a clean boundary along the garden bed. I stepped off the boulder onto the compacted cedar chips, using the tip of the stem to verify each foothold. Three paces brought me to the raised edge of the nearest border stone. I placed my left boot on the flat rim, leaned on the stem, and pulled myself up. The slate was solid, offering an open view of the lawn ahead.