There are hidden doors across Chicago. These little enclosures on the end of bridges. You get so use to passing them that they seem ordinary. Which I guess they are. You can’t go in them. They’re just another set of doors you pass on your way to work. Sometimes, like the bridge on Adams Street a little fence blocks the door from view. The nuts and bolts that hold the fences in place are ordinary. All nuts and bolts are ordinary. And yet, when you think about it, they hold everything together. Fences. Doors. Bridges. Houses. So ordinary, but so important.