The Slat Ladder

A wooden fruit crate sat overturned against the sunny brick garden wall. Its horizontal pine slats offered steady handholds. I gripped the lower board with both hands, wedged the toe of my boot into the gap, and hoisted myself up. The weathered pine was rough and warm under my palms. Moving one slat at a time, I tested each foothold before shifting my balance upward. At the top, I swung my legs over and sat on the flat boards. From up here, I can see the entire lawn stretching all the way back to the kitchen door.