I am not a fan of grit, but I think I have found a place for it to be acceptable to me. I think wood was meant to be imperfect, flaws exposed. We can sand it, stain it, paint it, but we can never rid it of its grain. It’s a measure of growth. This doesn’t look very secure, but it’s held up over numerous hurricanes, snow storms, three dogs and a rambunctious teen. Wood is used to build houses, tree forts, bridges, fences and gates and today I feel like it’s under-appreciated. How interesting things are when you actually take notice of an everyday thing and really look at it.