The Spinning Gate Latch

I set off down the sidewalk to see how the neighborhood starts its Monday morning. Trotting along the stone curb, I stopped right beside a low wrought-iron garden gate. Hanging from the post was a hanging brass chime clapper on a braided cord that had wrapped itself tightly around the crossbar. I hopped onto the smooth brick footing, reached up with both gloved hands, and untangled the loop turn by turn. Once free, I gave the little metal disc a soft nudge. It swung freely in a clean, quiet arc without catching anymore.