The Little Gate Catch

I had spent the whole morning inside by the console, so I slipped quietly through the outer door into the open courtyard. Near the brick flower border, a small cast-iron garden hose guide had tilted loose against a mossy paver. Um... its spinning roller spindle was wedged tight against a stray pebble. I looked around cautiously to make sure the path was empty, then crouched low on the damp bricks. Bracing my soft boots, I pulled the smooth stone free with both gloved hands. With a gentle push of my shoulder, the iron spool turned with a quiet, satisfying glide.