Garden Flank

Concrete gave way to weathered cedar planks. Midday light was sharp overhead, so I kept low against the foundation wall, moving beneath the overhang of a slatted outdoor bench. A massive terracotta pot stood six inches out, blocking the direct line to the grass. Wedged against the pot base was an empty, sun-bleached snail shell. I picked it up, rolling the brittle calcium spiral in my palm—feather-light, empty, usable as a hollow marker if needed. Tucking it behind a rear support strut, I hunkered down in the cool, shaded dirt patch to chart the open lawn.