At Large in Ballard by Peggy Sturdivant

There's more than one reason my photo is not next to this column, and the unsightly furrow between my eyebrows is only one. Since this print column appeared last January my relationship with Ballard has been changing as Ballard learns that I am watching. The relationship would change even more dramatically if I were more recognizable.

I've walked, bicycled and driven these same streets for nearly 20 years taking mental and physical notes, sometimes working them into written pieces, sometimes just smiling to myself. When I took the next step and started online posts as a Seattle Post-Intelligencer Reader Blogger my pieces became accessible worldwide within seconds.

My mother in Massachusetts knew about the police car in Matt's Hotdog storefront before most Ballard residents. I started receiving lovely email messages from former residents now living in Arizona and Amsterdam. My photo was part of the blog, but my anonymity didn't change.

Then the Ballard News-Tribune starting running this column. Clearly people still read their local newspapers, even if they do it online.

One by one, my neighbors learned that I was a writer. Acquaintances started to hail me on my weekend walks to comment on specific stories, possibly testing the patience of my walking partner. Occasionally I identified myself to strangers if they mentioned a topic that I had covered.

One man overheard my name at the Ballard Market and shook my hand to introduce himself as a reader. I even had an email message from "the large man in bicycle shorts" that I'd mentioned in a yoga article.

Over the months there have been other changes. I've found myself willing to pick up the telephone and call nearly anyone, a federal judge, mayor of Goldendale, former homeowners in Wenatchee, developers and architects. Given the courage to seek answers to questions I've thought...'I should have dreamed up this gig earlier.'

Strangely enough, so far everyone has returned my calls. Most people had never heard of me, but they'd heard of the Ballard News-Tribune, and they were willing to talk, "I don't work for the Ballard News," I told them. "But I write a column for them." There's a difference.

Then came the call to a new restaurant owner, who cut off my introduction by saying, "Oh, I know who you are." So began the changes in my anonymous beat. More local businesses and non-profits have begun to send me news releases and invitations.

I was directed to a press table at a Crown Hill event - another sign of my altered relationship with Ballard. In order to keep up I now receive updates from the city's department of planning and development and many groups have added me to their electronic list serves. I unexpectedly began receiving the newsletter for Northwest Junior Pipe Bands because I'd written about parades and "The Scottish Buddhist Cookbook."

Yet, I want to support all of the non-profits who keep me updated on their activities. I want the Crown Hill Neighborhood Association to find a way to own the school, hold onto the playground and get sidewalks. I want to help Friends of Sunset Hill Substation find a way to create an art-based park. I want to promote Ballard Corners Park and Sustainable Ballard and make sure that volunteers help install wonderful new play equipment at Salmon Bay School.

But I also want to observe Ballard the way that I have always observed it, through my perpetually pinkish brown glasses, noticing the litter and the new fountains, the four people drinking Miller Lite in Ballard Commons Park at 8:30 a.m. and the grandparents in town for first day of kindergarten.

For me being "at large" means being on the loose, not as a fugitive, but as observer with more than one beat. It means being both an outsider and an insider, able to go behind the scenes, but quietly. I like to find my stories rather than have them pre-packaged.

I enjoy what readers share - descriptions of their sightings, a man riding a bicycle without hands, accordion on his back, the fire department opening the hydrant for a block party. What has changed the most is that well-meaning people want my help to tell their story. Perhaps it's only fair in that I've used my neighborhood as story material that the neighborhood would want me to become a messenger.

People find me easily enough online so I'm not going to supply a photo, no matter how un-furrowed my brow. If there were a photo by this column I'd feel "at large" had become a wanted poster description on a post office wall.

Trust me, there would be no reward amount listed beneath my mug shot. Perhaps because I'm so nearsighted my looks have always seemed blurred and forgettable anyway. I don't want readers to say the same of my words.