Dead Plumb

Dropped down off the retaining wall to the dry creek wash. Granite cobbles everywhere, worn round by water. I picked up three heavy, cold stones to test their weight. No levers this time. Just balance. I planted the flat basalt base on a level boulder. Set the second oval river rock right on its crown. It tilted, ready to roll. I didn't rush. Eased the pressure, feeling the grit bite until the center of gravity locked. Placed the third sharp-edged shale stone on top. Pulled my fingers back slow. No wobble. Three stones stacked plumb, holding clean under their own weight. Solid balance. It stands.