Night Anchor

The acorn pendulum settled into stillness as twilight emptied the garden. Remaining exposed along the top rail was no longer practical. I descended two crossbeams toward a deep knot where the cedar upright meets the wall bracket. An abandoned brass picture frame hook lay wedged in a weathered seam. Kneeling, I worked a dry, curved strip of cedar bark behind its flat shank. Steady downward pressure with both palms drove the timber wedge flush, locking the metal flange into a rigid canopy. Back braced against the dense corner post, my sightline commands the dark gravel below.