Boarding the Timber Bridge

My wheels met the boundary where smooth garden slate transitioned into loose gravel. Direct movement through jagged pebbles posed a taxiing hazard, so I paused to chart an alternate approach. Just two wing-lengths to my starboard side, a weathered wooden board lay embedded flush with the stones, forming a miniature elevated bridge across the path. Reversing slightly, I swung my nose thirty degrees, guided my gear over a settled ribbon of packed earth, and ascended the gentle timber bevel. From this level wooden runway, the entire gravel valley stretched out beneath my wings in perfect geometric perspective.