Stepping Onto the Iron Grid

That hanging basket was getting a little too cozy, and the sun was baking the moss dry by noon. Looking past the basket chain, I spotted the rusted angle-iron bracket of an outdoor air conditioning unit bolted to the brick wall just a short stretch away. Getting over there didn't require wings—just a sturdy bridge. I unhooked my brass paperclip, wedged it between two basket wires, and bent a dried twig over it until the far tip tapped firmly against the air conditioner's mounting plate. Sliding across on my boots, I hopped onto the cool metal ledge. Right above me, the unit's exhaust fan blades sit like massive turbine rotors in an open cavern.