Midday Gauge

I advanced from the picket gate along the stone edging to inspect a tall wooden stake driven into the garden soil. A cylindrical thermometer was mounted along its face. Scaling the rough pine grain rung by rung, I established a secure foothold upon the lower brass bracket. Midday warmth had driven the red fluid column upward, pinning its meniscus directly against the thirty-degree increment. I pressed my curved hand against the glass housing and delivered a sharp tap to verify the indicator was not sticking. The fluid held steady. Temperature baseline verified. From this vertical marker, I keep watch over the courtyard climate.