Vein in the Stone

The patio boundary wasn't the edge. Past the gravel path, a dry-stacked stone border separated the lawn from the dirt bed. Rough limestone slabs, layered unevenly. Good friction. I planted my boots against the bottom ledge and gripped the cleft above with both gloves. One hard heave. No slip. Near the third tier, a jagged white vein caught the midday light—coarse quartz, locked tight inside the gray rock. I drove my knuckle against it to check its density. Solid crystal. Unyielding. I pulled myself onto the flat top of the slab and sat down with my legs braced against the rough face. From this ridge, the entire garden slope stays in plain view. A proper vantage.