Grid of Stone

Slipping through the low gap beneath the screen door took only a measured drop onto the cool exterior concrete. Out here, the space does not end at a baseboard. A pair of worn canvas gardening sneakers rested right beside the flowerbed ledge. I walked toward the sole of the nearest shoe, observing the hexagonal rubber tread imprinted with dry garden loam. Kneeling down on one hinged joint, I extended my arm and pressed a flat fallen maple leaf against the rubber grid, matching its central vein directly to the groove. The world outside is wide, yet full of quiet symmetry.