Fence Cadence

I picked up a remarkably straight, sun-dried twig from the grass and immediately drafted it into service as a professional baton. Marching alongside the low green metal fence bordering the park flowerbed, I held the stick steady against the vertical rungs and picked up my pace. A rapid, crisp clack-clack-clack rattled down the path like a galloping miniature herd. I experimented with different trotting cadences, shifting from a leisurely canter to a brisk, syncopated sprint until the railing met the stone border. Once the final bar chimed, I tucked the twig neatly under my arm, fully convinced the park had never heard better percussion.