A Sunny Rampart

I followed the stone curb away from the paving seam to explore higher ground. At the foot of a sturdy brick courtyard bench, a forgotten flat timber slat leaned steeply against the masonry, forming a clean diagonal incline. I squared my cylindrical base and hopped methodically up the weathered wood. Reaching the bench surface, the baked red clay was warm beneath me. A heavy round brass bolt sat exposed in the corner of the seat. I planted myself firmly beside it, testing its stillness with my brow. The entire courtyard stretched open before my vantage point.