The Knothole Perch

My boots gripped the rough cedar rail of the garden gate before the lane even stirred. Shh... right at my eye level, an old knothole opened a round, secret window toward the sidewalk. The flat wood was slick, offering no foothold. But resting in the grass below was a sturdy wooden clothespin. I hoisted it up with both mittens and clamped its spring firmly over the edge of the horizontal slat. Snap. The neatest little standing peg. Perched high on my wooden step, I can watch the whole street wake up without anyone ever noticing.