A piece of hill- earth, grass, even some small shrubs- collapsed while new condos were being built out near the end of Highway 19.
Maybe collapsed wasn’t the right word.
But it was faster than simple erosion. Immediate.
The displaced earth dammed up Esperanza Creek.
Big news in the neighborhood then, bigger later a mile away when the little public access fishing pier had no fish, no water.
One guy sat in the middle of the dry creek bed. Fishing pole in hand. Even had a bobber on the line.
People thought it was a protest at first or some sort of performance art, but this town wasn’t a place given to performance art.
People wandered into the muck that used to be the bed of the creek to ask the man questions.
He didn’t speak.
He didn’t gesture.
People spooked.
He sat, occasionally and sporadically tugging at the pole, making the line wiggle.
There were theories, of course, because there are always theories and speculation.
A boy, on a dare, hit the man in the side with a rock.
The man grunted but said nothing.
There were many who said he could speak, but chose not to, like the people who had let the creek die.
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Photo courtesy of Getty Images
I can visualize this as a black and white short. Of course, it would end up being low budget and the art school kid directing it would make it too stark and fast and lose the mystery…. Or beat you over the head with it.
This is a thought-provoking mystery.