Through the Mesh

The hose reel shadow shrank as the sun crept overhead. Time to move deeper into the yard. A flattened wire mesh seedling tray lay upturned across the packed dirt trail between the gravel apron and the grass border. Sharp metal grid, rusted at the corners. No rerouting. I hit the low wire lip at full speed. Front bumper struck the rusted mesh with a hollow twang. The tires spun, searching for grip against the thin wire squares, then bit into the dirt beneath. I revved hard, dragging my belly across the wire ridge until the whole frame slammed over the top. Solid metal contact. Underneath held firm. Open dirt secured on the other side.