Over the Wooden Ledge

I squeezed past the crack in the screen door, leaving the familiar rug behind for the wide outdoor porch. A weathered wooden step stood right in front of me, twice as tall as my head and blocking my view of the grass. I pressed my front feet against the rough cedar grain, digging in until I found solid footing. Pushing up with all my weight, I hoisted my square body over the top lip. Now I am sitting on the sunlit plank, four feet planted firmly, looking out across the vast green yard.