Posts tagged “Montara”

I survive a violent assault

I survive a violent assault

Forty-five minutes ago I was fortunate to survive a violent, deliberate attempt to cause me harm. I took the dog for a walk, and just around the corner – less than 3 minutes from our house, on foot – a man in a pickup truck drove directly at me.

There are no sidewalks in Montara. Pedestrians must walk on the road. The road in this case was more than wide enough for two vehicles. There was no car behind us. It was full daylight out, but not bright enough to be shining the driver’s eyes.

This was not a deserted area; in my walk I saw probably 15 other dogs (with many people), kids being dropped off, joggers, etc.

I was not invisible – I was wearing light jeans, a bright red shirt, white shoes.

There’s just no way to explain away the other person’s behavior except to identify it as vicious, deliberate, and hurtful.

The older white Mazda pickup came towards us at fairly high speed. He was driving close to the edge of the road (unusual when the whole road is open). I stopped walking and looked up at him, as if to make eye contact. He did not waver. I did the only thing I could do, I jumped off the road into the grass/ditch, at the last moment. He didn’t waver; I saw his fairly young face and sunglasses as he sped past.

In some ways, thank goodness the only choice I had was to get out of the way. Had I been holding a gun, or been ensonced in my own shell of steel and rubber, I might have given into the anger and indignation than this intent-to-harm engendered. As it is, I’m shocked and hurt, and helpless. But safe.

Do you smell smoke?

The house two doors down burned tonight. It took a long time for the fire trucks to arrive; people stood in the street watching the flames get higher and thicker, hearing windows break. It felt ghoulish to watch, but it felt irresponsible to go inside, as if standing on the street was somehow the right way to lend support, all the while thinking “Thank God it wasn’t us” (and maybe hating ourselves for thinking that). A neighbor took pictures – explaining apologetically that it was for his insurance. I thought of taking pictures – because it was something that was happening – but couldn’t make myself do it; but I felt terrible that somehow my neighbor had the impulse to explain himself to me.

The man with the camera case and SLR camera arrived, walking on our driveways to get a better vantage point. The local blogger arrived much later, striding officiously to the center of the scene, camera and notebook in hand. Wait, it’s our neighbor, this is our territory, get away!

Ironically, I actually now know something about the people that live there; their history, their family, their recent tragedies, their remodeling. What, if anything, can we do to help them now?

Mr. Possum

Brody (who is a dog) alerted us last night to a visitor in our backyard. Mere feet from our hot tub was this fairly large possum. I’ve never seen one before.

What would you do?

Just out on a walk with the dog. As we passed a house, with a somewhat inclined driveway, I hear a metallic creak. We paused and the noise came again. It sounded like it was coming from one of the cars parked in the driveway. A bit concerned, I watched, and the noise happened a third time, only this time the car inched backwards very slightly.

We went to the door (I did not want to do this, by the way) and knocked. Taking a dog up a strange walk to a strange front door is a bit nerve-wracking.

No answer. Even though there were two cars parked in the driveway.

I then looked across the street. There was a car parked there directly across from the creaking car. I went up to their door (I really did not want to do this, by the way) and rang the bell. No answer. There were two cars parked there. And shoes outside the door.

Do people in our little town just not answer the door to men with dogs? I have no idea.

Do cars just settle into their parking brake? Or do they only creak when, Hollywood-style, the cables are fraying? I have no idea.

What to do? How much effort and annoying of people does one do, based on a concern or suspicion?

We kept walking.


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