Here today, gone tomorrow

For nearly six years, a neighborhood fixture.

For years, a neighborhood fixture.

For nearly six years, it stood immobile under a large tree just east of our home. Never ridden. Never a hint of who left it there, when or why. Just a mysterious motorcycle draped in a fabric cover collecting dust and cobwebs.

Now it’s gone.

Earlier this week, the authorities put a bright sticker on the windshield, warning it would be towed away if not removed by the responsible party. Three days came and went and now there’s just an empty space underneath the tree.

Funny thing, I had passed by this abandoned thing for so long that I had ceased to notice it.

It wasn’t until one day recently that I asked Lori just how long it had been there.

“Ever since we moved in,” she responded.

That would be around Thanksgiving of 2009, about five years and 10 months ago.

Poking around this week, I saw that it was a Kawasaki and its dirtied license plate was from Washington state.

Now that it’s been hauled away, I’m left with plenty of questions and no answers.

— Who owned it? For how long?

— Was it a gift to self? A primary or second vehicle?

— How many miles on it? Had it broken down?

— What were the circumstances that led the owner to leave it here? Why didn’t he or she come back for it? Was there a not-so-pleasant reason — a death, perhaps?

— What was the last ride like? Was it used to go to work or run an errand? Or something more exciting, a day trip to the coast or a long-distance ride to nowhere in particular?

An empty space is all that's left.

An empty space is all that’s left.

It’s odd that this machine was in plain sight for so long, but evidently overlooked so long by so many. I couldn’t have been the only one if no other neighbor found reason to call the authorities until now.

Too bad the motorcycle couldn’t tell its own stories.

3 thoughts on “Here today, gone tomorrow

  1. Interesting. Some things become institutional simply through their presence. What got me wondering is what prompted the authorities, after almost six years, to tag and tow it?

    • They do become part of life’s wallpaper, don’t they? I was estimating I must have walked by that thing at least 20,000 times. Six times a day times close to 3,000 days — conservatively. Meanwhile, here’s a postscript: Apparently, ithe motorcycle did belong to someone in the corner apartment building on our block. The day before it was towed away, Lori said she saw two guys from that place working on it. Didn’t start. What a surprise.

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