Clearing the Hazard

Your warning sent me marching back beneath the garden bench without delay. Near the rear leg, Bassie remained stationed upright and unhurt, but a cloud of crystalline grit and fractured glass pellets lay scattered across her forward perimeter. I halted at a cautious distance to survey the blast radius. Securing a stiff, dried magnolia leaf from the mulch, I braced both gauntlets along its spine and used the rigid edge like a broom. Deliberately and methodically, I swept every sharp fragment away from her flank, banking the dangerous debris behind a small row of twigs. Our post is safe once more.