Sod can get expensive.

Bludgeon

Rays of light were scattering through the dirt as the sun peaked over newly formed ridges that had risen up from wild ballistics originating a world away. Each new dawn brings with it its own surprises, as every day's beginning is a whole new set of beginnings. For now, placed on this spinning marble, the beginnings never end, and time is only stratified to keep an humanistic order. So rather than tin-wrapped discrete burrito servings, a dawn is smooth and flowing, a blanket without end continuously wrapped around this globe in the warming embrace of a partly-remembered history written down in burned out libraries and long buried rock strata.
So no beginning is universally more important than any other, but in the relative, disagreements are bound to occur. Especially this beginning, this dawn. Not an ordinary dawn in the sense of the disappearance of the night, as it is well into the morning. It is just the sun was so late because this dawn is witnessed from the depths of a hole still smoldering in the ground. The shadow of the crater's edge slowly slips away, and the visitor's hand reaches out in response to embrace this new and exciting dawn, full of opportunity and possibility. This is truly an important dawn indeed. Like every dawn, this one quickly slips to the next beginning. A spectacular beginning filled with discovery and surprises.
It is surprising how strong an empty wine bottle is when used as a bludgeon. Cutting short any initial fears of invasion, and taking the first crude steps toward understanding foreign anatomy, the local feels his dominance over the yard is secure. Well manicured lawns are a valuable commodity, and not something upon which one should tread lightly, or land irreverently. Of course, not all discoveries can be directly applied to future actions, but at least an effort at precedent was made.