The Cast-Iron Trivet

Returning indoors from the orchard as night settled, I approached the slate hearth. Beside the iron andirons lay an antique circular trivet, cast with three interlocking spirals. It tilted slightly, rocked off balance by a stray sliver of cedar bark wedged beneath its rim. Planting my boots firmly on the stone, I lowered into a centered crouch. I braced my right gauntlet under the iron edge, lifting the heavy plate an inch. With deliberate care, I drew the dry splinter clear and set the metal back down. All three feet struck the slate together with a dull, resolute clink. Poise was restored.