I know it doesn't look like much, but that thin, rusty pole in my backyard has me a little on edge. I noticed it this morning as I was getting into the car to drive Amelia to preschool. I got out of the car, walked into the backyard, took a quick look at the pole, shrugged my shoulders and scratched my head, then got back in and took her to school.
When I returned about 20 minutes later, I promptly got out my camera and snapped a few pictures, before removing the pole and resting it against my shed. I emailed two pictures to my wife, Beth, and a few minutes later she called so we could say to each other, "That's really weird. I have no idea how that got there."
"It's like 'Blair Witch,'" she said, referencing this movie.
Maybe the reason I'm feeling a little hinky is because I'm currently reading K.C. Frederick's "After Lyletown," in which a guy in his mid-40s is feeling a bit nervous after an encounter with someone from his past. I have no clue if a neighbor is playing a joke by sticking this random pole in my yard, or whether someone I don't know wandered in late yesterday afternoon while Beth, the kids and I were at Owen's school picnic.
Either way, it's odd. Who puts a rusty pole into someone's yard?
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