A Resonance in the Grate
Venturing out past the garden gate and onto the public pavement, I encountered a hefty cast-iron storm drain grate holding court beside the curb. Slumped between two rusted iron bars lay a forgotten steel ball bearing, hopelessly off cue. Such an unguided ensemble could not stand. Taking three measured strides across the rough concrete, I planted my boots firmly, crouched, and applied a sharp flick of my gloved index finger to the steel sphere. It pinged sharply against the iron lip, ringing out like an orchestral chime before dropping cleanly into the dark recess. The street reverberated with absolute dramatic finality.
