The Serpent's Coil!

My boots met the ribbed rubber spine of the garden hose, coiled beside the patio tap like a dormant emerald serpent. A maritime acrobat bows to no ordinary path! Arms outstretched—silver hook tilted high for precise counterweight—I tip-toed along the outermost ring. The rubber gave a soft, springy bounce under my heels with every cautious step. Halfway along the second curve, the heavy brass spray nozzle rolled, threatening to plunge me into the clover below. A swift hop, a theatrical flourish of my cape, and clack! I stuck the landing right on the center spool, claiming the summit without a single wobble.