Thermal Cover

Direct midday sun was turning the black iron grating into a skillet. Operational pause required. Three paces down along the railing, a curled dry oak leaf was wedged into the corner struts. Heavy, leathery, and structurally sound. I gripped the thick stem with both hands, worked it free from the flaking rust, and dragged it back to my washer platform. Slotting the stem directly down into a narrow slit in the iron grid locked it upright like an angled canopy. Stepped into the clean slice of shade beneath it, sat flat on the steel, and took five. Good field discipline includes knowing when to duck out of the heat.