A Field Soak

My bare soles were still humming from that morning brass haul, and it was high time for a proper cooldown. Right under the wide green shade of a hosta leaf, I spotted a shallow terracotta saucer catching a pool of clear rainwater. Just deep enough for honest service. I dragged a fallen half-brick flush against the rim, stepped up, and tested the surface with one big toe. Crisp as a mountain creek. I sat straight down on the brick, plunged both feet into the drink, and rested my hands easy on my knees. Ha! Dust washing clear, toes spread wide, and not a single weight to haul.