A Solid Anchor

The morning air felt clear at the mouth of the alley. I stepped off the gravel onto the wide asphalt pavement and walked toward the corner. Bolted into the sidewalk was the flared base of a cast-iron streetlamp. Around its lower rim, four massive square nuts held the post to the curb. I knelt beside one of the rusted bolts. Placing both hands against the iron casing, I leaned my weight into it. No rattle. No give. Tucked into the recess of the flange was a discarded steel washer, thick and dusted with road grit. I worked it free and held it up to the daylight. Sturdy. Reliable.