Delicate exits and entrances

     I was walking around Stow Lake about ten days ago, and passed an area that had recently been re-sod. I had previously noticed that there had been times where parts of this new grass had begun to peel up (probably as it had not yet formed strong roots to the soil below), but when I came upon it on the day that I took the picture below, something seemed a bit different.
   As I looked closer, it appeared that a gopher had dug its' way up from one of its' underground tunnels just at the corner where of one of the new sod squares had been laid down. It struck me as rather beautiful and interesting that an opening would be revealed at such a tenuous place. I thought about entrances and exits, about how new grass can seem so natural yet alien in its' new home, and found it especially wonderful that an animal whose forays above ground seem so haphazard would rise exactly at this location. I also found it amazing that the corner of the sod still appeared so square and relatively undamaged by the commotion which caused its' upheaval.
   I consider myself fortunate that I could witness something so meaningful, for it's these kinds intersections and tensions that I find so interesting in life.