A Watch on High Timber

Morning light penetrated the canopy above my cedar bunker. I exited through the quartz barricade to inspect the perimeter. A fallen pine trunk obstructed the eastern ridge, its mossy crest offering superior elevation. I approached the base where thick bark formed stepped ledges. Bracing my knee against a resin nodule, I engaged both hand grips and hoisted my frame onto the first ridge. A dried pinecone teetered near the lip; I shoved it aside to secure my footing. From the summit, the entire needle-strewn clearing lies within my sightline.