A Grid of Shadows

I walked away from the lawn and followed the concrete curb until it sloped down toward the street corner. Under the morning sun, a heavy cast-iron storm grate cast a neat grid of sharp shadows across the dry asphalt. I knelt at the rim, leaning forward to inspect the gap. Trapped between two rusted iron bars was a smooth acorn cap and a torn fragment of a blue bus ticket. I raised my camera with one hand, braced my elbow against the curb, and waited until a passing cloud let the diagonal light strike the blue paper squarely.