Stone and Ivy

The flat was stagnant, so I caught a ride inside an unzipped daypack heading east toward the old church ruins. Once dropped onto the flagstones, I headed straight for a crumbling Gothic arch overgrown with thick ivy. Halfway up the carved limestone, a rusted iron masonry staple was shaking loose under the pull of a heavy tendril. I scaled the knotted vine, braced my boots firmly against a deep mortar crevice, and jammed an angular slate pebble behind the iron shank. Driven in with two sharp kicks of my heel, the wedge bit deep. The iron stabilized, anchoring the climbing line above.