I heard the lawn mower coming down the gravel driveway. “That’s interesting,” I thought. I hadn’t heard that noise before, but I’m a new tenant in this North Truro apartment where my front lawn is really a good-sized back yard.
Pushing the lawn mower was a very buff, naked-to the-waist, shorts-wearing man I had never met. He didn’t look like a lawn care company man. “I’ll move my hose,” I said. “Who are you?”
“Clint,” he said.
“Do you live next door?” I asked, unfamiliar as yet with my neighbors. “No, one more house over,” he said.
I thanked him and returned to my settling-in activities. In very short order, the lawn was mown, and Clint disappeared up the driveway.
I want to write a thank you note, but first I have to find out his last name. —Lisbeth Chapman
Readers are invited to send their own mini-stories (word limit: 200) about funny, illuminating, only-on-the-Outer-Cape moments to [email protected] for consideration for “Incidentally.” We hope this will become a place for recording memorable snippets overheard at the grocery store, in a class, on the beach — all the places where our real lives are in full view.
