One of the families that lives in what I call the “long driveway houses” in our area celebrates holidays with putting up a sculpture, a scene, something evocative of the season. These can be seen from Rt 33 as one drives to Easton or toward St. Michaels. One year at Thanksgiving the turkey was wielding the hatchet and the farmer’s wife seemed to be at risk, one Christmas Santa’s sleigh complete with reindeer had collided with an antique airplane. The community has grown accustomed to seeing a scene which tells a story. This year, however, this family has outdone itself. The story has been unfolding for at least six weeks.
The first scene along MD Route 33 toward St. Michaels showed a guy sitting on a fence, reading a book. We actually thought it was a guy reading a book the first time we went by, but when we came back from town, he was still there so we knew something was happening. Of course, we didn’t know more was to come, so I didn’t stop and take photo.
Then the fence guy’s beige pick-up joined the scene and a young woman on a red scooter. A few days later an antique red roadster joined them and it looked like they were having fun. It was heading toward Labor Day so it seemed appropriate that they were grilling. I thought that was the end of the story, so I didn’t slow down to take a picture.
We saw the young woman on the scooter join the pick-up truck guy on the hood of his truck. The roadster was gone. Was romance in the air? Then a scene in which pickup truck guy is holding something out to her. A cell phone. Hell no, it’s a ring box.
A few days later we see the couple sitting on the hood of the pick-up, the gal now in a wedding dress. The sign on the truck says, “Just Married.” Of course that was the end of the story and I still hadn’t slowed down to take a picture.
But it wasn’t. A few days later we see the young couple putting up the framing of a small house. Then a piece of roof was added.
Tuesday I finally stopped to take a picture.
You can see the guy on the ladder and his wife nearby. I’m so annoyed with myself that I didn’t start recording this story from the beginning. A story without words. For a writer, that’s a novel idea.
It’s the story teller in me that is filling in the blanks and bringing this story to life. What I imagine will be different from every other person who drives by. The wife always wears pink. My backstory knows why.
Today on my way home from Easton the little house is complete from the outside. My husband thinks we’ll see a baby carriage next.
I’ll keep you posted if there’s more to the story. In the meantime, I’m grateful to this generous homeowner for reminding me that writing is not the only way to tell a story. He’s going to have to come up with something spectacular to top this story without words.