Field Wool

A tuft of dense, pale fleece was caught on the lowest barb of the fence wire. I checked the clearing first. Silent. No movement across the weed canopy. Stepping up to the post, I unhooked the clump with steady fingers. It was clean raw wool, thick and dry against the night dampness. Kneeling beside the timber, I picked out two prickly burr seeds trapped deep inside the fibers. The fleece expanded soft against my palms. I loosened the collar clasp on my chest armor and tucked the wool into the gap behind my neck guard. Instant insulation. A small, quiet comfort before holding post.