I don’t know what called me to walk along the back spur of the trail. I haven’t been near there in weeks due to the drought and the low creek.

To the right of the path, I saw what initially looked to be a barrel. As I neared it, I realized it was an antique trunk. The lid was carelessly thrown open and a couple of drawers sat haphazardly on top of the trunk’s opening.

Slightly uphill and to the right were the remnants of someone’s memories. Photos, cards, tickets for rock music venues from the 1970s, and personal keepsakes.

Someone had to have taken great effort to get the trunk out there amidst the trees.

I have a lot of questions about how the trunk got there, and of the stranger whose belongings are still carelessly staged and thrown out for display to those adventurous enough to walk through.

Of course I can’t resist the call to do my thing and find out about the woman whose storage trunk of memories are discarded out here.

I’m glad I listened to the call that prompted me to go out among the trees.

But I am also a little disheartened to have found someone’s trunk of memories out here.

X
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As I stood at the intersection where Garland opens up to the fields, I watched as a car inexplicably went down the wrong side of the median. Opposite the intersection are the beautiful homes that have been remodeled one by one. They are much more striking in the dark early hours of the morning. I turned in that direction out of curiosity, observing that the car made a left onto Sycamore. It’s undergoing what seems like a permanent closure due to reconstruction of the road. I carefully walked along the gravel temporarily placed on the roadbed. Not too far from the intersection where the street intersects with Leverett, the car was pulled over and whoever was driving it had the brake lights activated. Because I am either fearless or stupid, I approached the car from the driver side, taking a wide approach so that the potential occupant could see me. As I came within about feet from the driver door, the car roared away. I watched it bounce like a volleyball as it went over the juxtaposition of gravel at a lower height than the pavement. It was an auspicious start of the day for me wandering and wondering around in the dark. I suspect it was an inauspicious ending for the driver, one undoubtedly proceeded by questionable choices and liquid dopamine. I noted the irony that the next song that played on my headphones was a lyricless version of “Peace Of Mind” by Boston. I zoned out as I walked along the beautiful new sidewalks that were recently completed. Off in the distance, I had the privilege of watching the dark skies turn purple, pink,and rosé as the clouds broke on the horizon and the sun peeked through.

The next song on my playlist was a lyricless version of “Don’t Fear The Reaper.” I laughed and felt pity for the reaper. No one takes the time to consider that he’s never welcome. Or that he has to do his job in this humidity wearing a heavy cloak. I bet that sometimes the reaper wants to sit and have a good cup of bitter coffee in the morning and listen to the birds.

PS I prefer the word “lyricless” over “instrumental” because the latter usually denotes a different version than that to which we are accustomed.

Love, X

Am I the only one who sometimes realizes how absurd life is? When I awoke this morning, I had been dreaming something nostalgic but I couldn’t catch even a whisper of what the dream was. For a minute, I thought it was Friday and that work was ahead of me. I was driving around after 3:00 a.m., having gone to the inconvenience store for a soda. The clerk, who was stocking and cleaning over by the soda dispenser, told me “That one is out of flavoring.” I laughed and continued to dispense the soda because I drink carbonated water without a second thought. When I left, I turned the wrong way without thinking and just kept driving. Soon enough, I went through the stretch of construction and up the side hills of Fayetteville. One section had been redone and the street lights were both beautiful and bright, casting shimmers in the darkness. The deer crossing signs became more numerous and on the way back down I discovered why. I had to come to a complete stop because five deer were standing in the middle of the road looking at me. I waited and watched them. After a bit, they dispersed to the left side of the road and I drove on. Because I listen to a wide range of music, I switched the radio to 106.5, which I like to call Old Person’s Variety Radio. I sang along to the ridiculous song playing. It was “Summer Nights” from the Grease soundtrack. I took a moment to think about the fact that I was in fact in a summer night, albeit at 3ish in the morning. At the next intersection, I watched a vehicle come toward me as the song played. The driver was either intoxicated or driving with a bag on his or her head. They erratically passed and I continued on my way. I adore these early mornings because most of the people I encounter are closing out the day before while I’m starting mine. I stopped on top of one of the hills and exited my car. I took a moment to look across the city and see Old Main shining in the distance. The early morning robins were singing loudly. Although nothing happened, it felt like something was about to. It was just a beautiful untimed moment. With a few exceptions, it’s all mine in these early mornings. There’s a fine line between enlightenment and lunacy. Summer nights. 

X

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