I walked over to Garland/112 in the unseasonably cool dark early morning. The plan was to watch the panoramic dark sky for meteors. It’s one of the best nearby places because I can walk down the middle of the road without so much concern that a sidewalk will trip me up. 

As I approached the last side street, Ernie Jacks Blvd., I heard somebody driving fast heading north. But I wasn’t seeing the flickering shadowy lights ahead of me caused by headlights. A white vehicle roared past, traveling at about 90 mph. No headlights. No interior lights of any kind. Cannonball Run came to mind. 

Almost simultaneously, blue lights flickered against the white fence along the west side of the road. For a second, I thought an unseen police vehicle fired up its lights as the occupant watched the vehicle roar passed. 

It wasn’t. Instead, several police vehicles were at the apartments on the right side. I took a right and walked down the side dead end street to see what kind of excitement might be going on. The voices were clear but for some reason I couldn’t understand a word. 

The flashing lights and backlit effect created another illusion. I took a couple of pictures because the boundaries of the trees and the contradicting lights made it look like there was a cloud floating about 20 feet in front of me. It’s not real. The canopy of the trees created The strange optical illusion.

It was a beautiful and quiet walk. Almost no breeze, with the temperature actually falling as I wound my way through the dark neighborhoods. Just the insects and occasional voices from unseen people who had refused to give up the night and go to bed. 

For some reason, the movie Backrooms kept coming to mind. If there were such magical places, this would have been the morning where I would not have been surprised to find one. Like magical Narnia wardrobes, except scattered in shadowy liminal spaces. 

I’m definitely going to have to bring out my blue tape and put up some hidden doorways one of these mornings. As a prank, but also as a way to identify people who are either strange enough or magical enough to want to walk up and touch them. Just in case. Those are my people. 

By the time I reluctantly surrendered, there was a breeze to accompany me and the temperature had dropped to 70. That was magical enough.