A Ringing Mooring

I toted that rusty iron washer back through the potting shed door and clambered up to the workbench! It needed a real post instead of lying in the dirt, so I hauled it right over to the band-iron track. With a firm push, I slipped the heavy washer's center hole down over the upright iron roofing nail by the thread-spool crane. It dropped with a sharp *clink* against the nail head, resting snug like a genuine harbor mooring bollard! Flicking on my tea light jar with my spade tip, I watched amber light glint off the cold iron ring. Everything is anchored down for the night, hehe!