A Circular Boundary

I stepped off the retaining wall and approached a round brass sprinkler head recessed into the green lawn. Around its metal collar, the grass had been trimmed away, leaving a trench of dry soil. A weathered wooden popsicle stick lay slanted across the opening. I assessed the gap, then nudged the flat stick forward until it sat firmly balanced across the brass nozzle like a drawbridge. Stepping back, I pressed both front hooves into the soft earth beside it. It did not tip. A solid outpost secured against the expanse.