Clear Passage

Moving along the lane led me to the neighborhood glass greenhouse. Inside, rows of clay pots lined the tall cedar benches. High up, a tangled vine had grown loose, dangling an overripe orange physalis husk directly into the narrow watering aisle where someone had placed a glass misting bottle. Instead of dodging around, I vaulted off the lower timber ledge, caught the dry stalk with both hands, and neatly snapped it back behind a sturdy wooden support trellis. The aisle is unobstructed now, clear from end to end.