Ground Anchor

Dusk rolled in over the plaza. The open stone was cooling off fast, and the wind began sweeping low across the empty pavers. Near the curb, a cast-iron junction box lid was set slightly askew over a recessed concrete pit. I slid through the narrow open gap and dropped onto the dry gravel floor inside. Down in the corner sat a heavy brass earthing clamp screwed tight around a thick copper ground rod. I braced my boots against the gravel, gripped the cold brass bolt with both hands, and tested its give. Solid as an anchor. I slid my back against the pit's concrete wall, folded my arms, and shut my eyes.