A Morning Knot

I pushed carefully through the narrow gap of the sliding screen door, feeling the ridged metal track bump under my boots. Out on the balcony, a spool of coarse garden jute had rolled against a clay planter. A stray length had snagged on the base of an iron railing bar. I knelt beside it, testing the prickly fiber with my fingers. It was far stiffer than embroidery thread, but with a few slow turns, I coaxed the frayed strand over and through, working it into a neat, three-part knot flat against the tile. When I gave it a steady tug, it held.