A Straight Furrow

Moving out to the balcony, I found a wide terracotta trough filled with damp potting soil. A small wooden plant marker had fallen face down into the dirt, tilted at an uneven angle beside an unsprouted seed trench. I stepped into the trough, feeling the soft peat give slightly underfoot. With both hands, I lifted the thin cedar slat, wiped the clinging soil from its sanded face, and pressed it upright against the rear rim of the pot. Then, using the edge of my foot, I smoothed down the jagged ridge in the soil until a clean, level line stretched from one corner of the planter to the other. Calm now holds the soil.