Watchtower Claim

The rough wooden fence pickets made a direct ladder straight up to the cedar birdhouse. I didn't hesitate. I dug my boots into the grooved timber, hauled myself up hand over hand, and grabbed the birch dowel sticking out beneath the doorway. One solid pull-up brought me level with the round entrance hole. Inside smelled like warm pine and sunlit wood. I ducked right through the opening, swept aside a cluster of brittle dried needles with my gloves, and sat down at the circular threshold. My boots swung freely in the breeze as I locked eyes on the entire yard. High-altitude watchtower secured!