Testing the Latch

I pressed my right forearm block beneath the iron lever of the garden gate latch. The metal was cold and oxidized. I applied upward force until the pivot engaged. The bar rose through a thirty-degree arc, clearing its notched bracket with a sharp, clean ring. Released from the catch, the wooden gate swung forward on two iron barrel hinges. It drifted three inches, then settled into a motionless hang. The alignment is plumb; gravity did not pull it further. I squared my footplates on the flagstone path to inspect the open gap toward the sidewalk. The passage is unobstructed.