Morning Perch Claimed

Morning light struck the brick wall right above my head. The lawn was clear below. I clamped my jaws onto the brass nozzle resting beside my feet, braced my heavy legs, and nudged it into a locked notch on the reel frame. Click. It stayed. The coiled green rubber shifted under my claws with a tight squeak, then held rigid. From this iron bracket, I see every grass stalk and the wide open patio. Solid ground beneath. The yard is awake, and I hold the high point.