504 Main by Holly Lefevre: neighbors

Thursday, October 7, 2010

Writer's Workshop: The Anchor

It has been like 100 years since I did writer's workshop, but here I am!

Although, I went over to grab the writers workshop button

and realized I sort of screwed up the prompt.

I mean I usually take liberties, but this is more than just a liberty.

Oh well...jumping in anyway with Prompt #2

"Show us where you live. Not on a map (security please),

but take a picture of the view out your

front door, back door, or neighborhood."

************************

The Anchor

I could easily step out of my home, walk a few blocks and take a photo of the Asilomar coastline, a gorgeous old Victorian, or an enchanting forest. I am fortunate to live in a unique and eclectic area that has many interesting aspects to it, including the anchor that lives across the street.

(NOT my house..one of the many Victorians in the area)

The first time we encountered the anchor was on our house hunting mission. In fact we almost tripped over it, which was better than smashing the realtor's BMW 7-series door into it, I suppose. But, really...an anchor? Now, we were coming from Los Angeles home of small squares of perfectly manicured lawns and palm trees, and while I may have seen a car or two parked on a lawn in my day, never a 10 foot anchor on a lawn.

We eventually bought that house across the street from the anchor. I was hesitant, I cried, I lamented, I tortured myself..."Why did we do this? How can I live across the street from an anchor?" {that was only one of the issues} To begin with, I was not wanting to leave L.A., my home, my little lawn, the tidy sidewalks, the other little lawns on the block, but, there was no looking back...we were headed to our new house with the view of the anchor, the smell of salt water, and the roar of the ocean to fill our ears.

We were welcomed wholeheartedly into the neighborhood...just what I had always imagined it would be like...the family next door brought us chocolate chips cookies and wine {and they didn't even know me yet!} and a gift certificate to their restaurant and the other neighbors stopped by as we unpacked to welcome us to the block. In spite of the fog and the overpriced, in need of massive renovations home we had just purchased, I thought this would be OK...maybe.

Mary, the owner of the anchor is a sweet older woman who had lost her husband prior to us moving into the neighborhood. Legend has it he found this anchor while diving in the Monterey Bay and thought is was pretty awesome and brought it home - can you imagine that conversation!..."Hi Honey, I am home. I brought you something." The anchor found its new home plunked down against the tree in the front yard, and slowly became a fixture in the neighborhood. Also, according to the legend, Mary did not like it this "gift" at all and vowed it would soon be gone...which it is not, some twenty-something years later.

We have been here for 5 years now. Every morning I would walk out to get the newspaper and stare at the anchor. I look out the front window and my eyes always find the anchor. I am not really sure why...it's rusted exterior actually blends in with the tree trunk it is propped against. It does not really stand out at all, but for some reason, my eye is always drawn to it.

I suppose to me the anchor symbolizes a sweet love story. It is also a trademark of our neighborhood, our street, a sign of the quirky little town I live in, of my new life {OK, we have been here for 5 years, but it still seems new}, and the freedom of living in a neighborhood where you can paint your house pink or put an anchor on your front lawn.