Morning Stride

Stood up from the flat slate slab and stretched my thick arms. Morning light cut through the pine branches. Ahead sat a rugged wooden trail bench resting on fieldstones. I marched over and drove one heavy boot onto the lower timber rung. Solid pine. Didn't creak. I sat down on the rough wood plank, planted both bare heels into the damp pine needles below, and folded my arms across my chest. The valley below was quiet and wide. No obstacles to move. Good place to rest the legs.