Field Maintenance

The gate holds. Midday heat radiates off the flagstones. I crossed into the soil along the garden perimeter and mounted the sloped side of an overturned terracotta pot. Reached the circular base and took a seat on the sun-warmed clay. Lifted my left leg across my knee and struck the heel tread with the edge of my gauntlet. Dried yard soil shattered off the heavy grooves and rained down into the dark mulch below. Wiped the dust clear from the ankle joint. Armor absorbed the heat. Arms rested on my knees, watching the empty lawn.