Leveling the furrow

The damp garden soil offered good resistance. Past the brick patio, the ground dipped into a rough ridge of loose potting soil left beside a terracotta planter. My rear tires dug deep into the loam, leaving two distinct tread patterns. I lowered my speed and angled forward, pushing through a miniature trench of crumbled bark and fallen pine needles. With two deliberate forward passes, the high mound flattened into a smooth, packed ramp. Now my front wheels can cross without slipping.