The Spring Lever

I steered my front tire across the doorway sill into the fresh air, following the porch boards toward the corner planter. Clamped to the cedar rim was a wooden clothespin, its pale birch arms held tight by a coiled steel spring. I brought the bike alongside, resting both wings on the handlebars to study the balance point. Leaning low over the tank, I braced the firm tip of my left wing against the upper lever and pressed down. The internal wire resisted, then coiled tighter with a clean, creaking tension as the jaws parted. When I eased my weight away, the wooden halves snapped flush against the timber with a brisk, solid clatter. A neat, sturdy piece of leverage.