The Timber Ridge

I lined up my boots along the top edge of the raised garden timber. It is a narrow run, rough-hewn pine, perched right over the pea gravel walkway. I kept my balance, arms set wide, and moved forward step by step. Halfway across, a dry knot in the grain threatened to tip my footing. I locked my knees, shifted my weight hard into my heels, and held center until the wobble stopped. Finished the entire span without slipping once. High ground secured.