An Essay

Higher Ground

I found myself at an unassuming intersection in the heart of London, Ontario, where the city pulses with life. The kind of place where hurried footsteps drown out the whispers of history etched into the pavement. But this time, I looked up. And there, suspended between the mundane and the extraordinary, I saw a dance that defied gravity.  
  
Two men had legs tangling from swings not meant for laughter or leisure; they swung high above the bustling street. Their bodies seemed frozen as their hands, in slow and steady movement, pointed their squeegees toward the sky and down again to buckets on the side of their harnesses, which was part of the cleaning costume, as if they were enigmatic acrobats rehearsing a serious and careful routine. As the traffic lights kept blinking, the drivers and other pedestrians were oblivious to the spectacle above. 

I stood there, waiting for the lights to change, my gaze locked on these urban aerialists. Their movements were fluid, a steady choreography of courage and defiance. They swung across from one window to the other, defying the laws of gravity, and I felt a tingling in my own feet. Was it fear? Or dormant longing to soar beyond the asphalt and bustle of the dusty city? Nope. I despise such heights. My nerves started to react to the imagination of being up there tangling away.  
  

I wonder what the CVs of a ‘Professional High-rise Cleaner’ entail. Do they list more than just typical job skills? Is there a class that delves into the psychology of the ‘secret society of daredevils’ among them, or a special school teaching them to understand the laws of physics? I imagine their duties section, combining mundane tasks with phrases like ‘ace at scaling skyscrapers’ or ‘master of defying gravity,’ showcasing their extraordinary abilities alongside standard qualifications.

After musing around with funny thoughts: there is no room for high-fives or tipsy tumbles or the sky compensating them in celestial currency or asking silly questions, do they receive tips from passing pigeons and rooftop cats?

I sighed, outweighing the allure of dangling above the cityscape. Safety and security should always be paramount, reassuring them that the risks associated with such daring work are acknowledged and rewarded. 

As the lights finally changed, I stepped onto the crosswalk, leaving the swinging cleaners behind. But their memory lingered—a reminder that sometimes, the most extraordinary performances happen where we least expect them. So next time you are lost in the city’s rhythm, look up. Who knows? You might catch a glimpse of the cleaning dare devils, defying gravity, one fearless storey at a time.    

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