It stands there, silent, stoic and stately as a stature, signifying nothing.
* * *
It’s not hard to find ‘nothing’ to write about. Just look around, plenty of it out there. The hard part is to make ‘something’ out of the ‘nothing.’ God did, you say. Well, guess who we’re not…
Take this ladder, for example. Could there be a more ‘nothing’ subject? Oh, you want to compare it to the Trump-Biden circus? A tossup.
If you haven’t stopped reading by this time, just bear with me. Maybe ‘something’ will come out of this titillating journey into the parallel universe of ‘nothing.’
The dog and I are on our morning walk to the beach. We pass a manicured hedge in the middle of a leafless lawn. The mowers and blowers have departed, taking their ear splitting, toxic-fumes machines to another yard. And there it stands, all alone, in the middle of the yard. A ladder.
Normally, such a tableau wouldn’t draw attention, but look, what’s a ladder doing just standing by itself out there in the grass? The proverbial question comes to mind: “Why?” It’s as out of place as a monkey attending a bar mitzvah. It invites inquiry, arouses curiosity.
I’m reminded of a billboard sign once seen along a back-road highway. It was painted solid black. In large, bold white letters was printed one word: GREED. The word literally jumped off the signboard and into the car.
Yes, G-R-E-E-D. Nothing else. No message, no explanation, no accusation, no justification, no nothing, just the word GREED. What did it mean, who put it there and why? Sights like this are hard to forget.
The dog doesn’t ask such rhetorical questions. He finds a ladder leg, sniffs it and does what dogs usually do with anything vertical…baptizes it. It’s all he needs to satisfy his curiosity of ‘Why.’
The American Indians have a saying: “To see things clearly, look twice.” So, I do.
At first all I see is just a ladder, a landscaper’s type with a triangular base. It’s superior to the four-leg variety, more stable. Plus, it fits snugly into thick hedges more easily than the usual ladders.
Then I Zen out, take a second look, starting at the top. Isn’t that where we all want to look, or end up? Top of the ladder, top of the heap? It’s a natural thought since most of us have been ladder climbing all our adult life. Besides, ladders are mostly crowded at the bottom. I’ll leave all the starting-at-the-bottom metaphors for you to sort out.
But like the word GREED, the question of ‘Why’ bugs me. A ladder, standing alone in the middle of the yard, what gives? Somebody forget it? If there’s a message here, what is it? Who put it here, and for what reason?
As I contemplate the unanswerable question, the hedge moves. Is it alive? I look twice at that. A figure moves within the hedge, dressed in full camo, ponytail and blending in with the podocarpus. The hedge speaks, or at least the look-alike speaks. I’m speechless.
“How do you like my ladder?”
“Interesting. It looks like a ladder to nowhere standing out here in the grass.”
“Yes, heaven is still a long way off, even at the top. But I’ll get there.”
“Not on that ladder, you won’t.”
“Oh, yes, it’s my ticket.”
“Your ticket?”
“I’m The Island Pruner, high demand for my services. Big bucks. I’m a surgeon, not a butcher. These plants are alive, they require tender care. I whisper to them, quote poetry. Do you see a chain saw on my belt?” He laughs and tosses out a haiku poem for confirmation:
When starting to plant
Treat as you would a small child
This infant violet.
“Man, you are a strange one. But why is this ladder standing in the grass?”
“Customers, man, customers. People are curious. You’re the third one today. Customers mean money, and that’s my ticket to heaven.”
I consider suggesting that his ticket won’t get him through the gate, but then again, who knows anybody else’s idea of heaven. I just shake my head.
With that The Island Pruner vanishes back into the hedge, and we move on, leaving the ladder alone with its strange muted message.
* * *
And what is the message? Maybe it’s a simple one…’nothing’’ becomes ‘something’ when infused with a ‘purpose’ Just saying. What’s your ticket?
As for ladders, I’m sticking with my two-step one. Will you have to ask ‘Why’?
Bud Hearn
February 26, 2024