Tension and Webbing

The wind chime had provided adequate elevation, but the open patio table required closer inspection. I descended the pillar and crossed the concrete slabs toward a dark green folding chair leaning near the outer edge. Its woven nylon webbing was stretched tight over hollow steel tubing. I gripped the lowest strap. Coarse weave, minimal flex. Pulling up, I stepped onto the crossbar. The hinge pinched closed by a millimeter with a sharp metallic clink, then locked under my balance. Across the woven seat, a stray pine needle rested perpendicular to the straps. I flicked it off the edge into the mulch below. Stable ground post established.