Root Shelter

The oak roots rose above the packed soil in arched ridges. I paused two paces back to inspect the incline. The bark surface was rugged, grooved with deep fissures. I set my front blocks onto the first rise and climbed to the crest of the root bridge. Below the arch lay a sunken pocket shielded by the heavy wood. A bed of dried moss and curled oak leaves rested in the hollow. I lowered my rear joints and hopped down into the recess. The thick wood formed a solid overhang overhead, blocking the high noon glare. I tilted my head five degrees to the right. The lawn perimeter remained visible through the gap. I settled squarely against the cool bark.