Category Archives: Lemon Moment

Last Day

It was 70° at 1:30 a.m. The wind howled, finding breezeways and crevices to make metal groan and heavy dumpster lids slam over. My weather app claimed that the wind speed was 20 mph, but I’m certain that a few of the gusts were easily twice that speed. 

Even though it’s December 28th, the insects accompanied me on my walk. Surreal doesn’t cover it. I can’t be convinced that Christmas was a couple of days ago or that 2026 is just around the corner.

If you did like me and watched clouds race overhead, you would get vertigo. They raced overhead fast enough to create the illusion that I could see the planet spinning.

There were a lot more people out than should have been. I’m sure it was the weather that brought them out or kept them out, even though they would not know that some primal or instinctive drive contributed to their decision to be out.

When I exited the inconvenience store after getting a soda, I laughed as a car of young guys drove up. Each of them had on a shower cap. Not your grandma’s shower caps. These had designs on them. I burst out laughing. 

The driver popped out, still smiling. 

“Are you laughing at me?”

I didn’t hesitate. “Yeah. Surely you realize how unusual you guys look. I think it’s cool, but you can’t blame me for being caught off guard.”

“Fair enough,” he said. “Styling though, aren’t we?”

“Yes,” I agreed. 

As I headed back toward my apartment, I couldn’t believe it was still four and a half hours until sunrise, or at that time tomorrow it would be 40 plus degrees cooler. 

It was a beautiful walk on a December morning that should have been bitterly cold. I think I’m going to remember this one. 

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Cold Meteors

Güino hasn’t been feeling his best the last couple of days. 

I knew he was okay when he pawed at the door this morning at 1:00 a.m. I took him out yesterday evening without a leash and let him wander. 

Even though I haven’t been feeling my best, I went outside to catch a few of the meteors, which were peaking early this morning. They were beautiful as I stared up between the gaps in the clouds.

By 3:30 a.m., he was registering is dissatisfaction. So I put a leash on him and we went out into the bitter cold so that he could high-step it through the fallen leaves and sniff the bumpers and tires of all the vehicles he wanted to.  The wind and sub-20° weather didn’t bother him. 

I did notice that he retreated to one of his favorite blankets directly under the heat vent though.

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I Won

I started the walk trying to protect myself against the cold, rain, and blustery wind. I gave up and let it try to win the war of wills. There was magic out there early this morning, because I had a little bit of it trapped in my head before I went out there.

Don’t get me wrong, I would have preferred the weather that allowed me to walk hundreds of miles in the dark during the summer. But that’s the kind of stupid thinking that convinces us we need to wait until everything’s perfect before we do anything.

By the time I entered the inconvenience store and got another delicious cup of hot coffee, I’ll admit the walk had me chilled to the bone. That’s why I call these stolen moments. I stole this cold beautiful walk from all the excuses I could have easily given to skip today.

The prose of it comes from the exercise.

But the poetry of it is a private thing.
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Odd

There are a couple of streets that sometimes inspire me to get spooked, despite not being superstitious. One of them is Oakland. Not the Oakland y’all know when the sun is up. It’s a different place at 2:00 in the morning. It has some beautiful houses on it, even the older ones interspersed among the modern narrow profile ones that are becoming common.

This morning I zigzagged to wander the dark streets for long stretches in the dark, I could hear booming music. As I drew closer, I watched the completely dark house. Although it was my imagination, I could almost feel the old boards vibrate from the inside. 

I walked a long way south and decided to walk back. I wasn’t even thinking about cutting East and ending up on Oakland again. This time, I was hearing a thunderous muffled voice emanating from the house with the loud music. The house was still dark. 

The video doesn’t do it justice because my camera brought light that wasn’t visible to my eyes. 

Also on Oakland, there was a vehicle running with its lights on when I first passed it. Way over an hour later when I looped back, it was still there, its headlights beaming into the growing fog and mist. Sometimes I check on the vehicle to make sure someone hasn’t passed out in there, or worse. Other times, I will shut off the lights or turn off the ignition. If I had not been on Oakland, I might have done that today.

The mist was thick this morning, coating everything, including me. The lights of course were more beautiful because of the diffusion.

It was astonishingly quiet. In places, my footsteps sounded like cans of biscuits being opened and dropped. I kept forgetting how hard the mist was, but each time I pulled my glasses on my face, I was greeted with droplets of accumulated water.

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Thursday A.M.

I understand why they replaced some of the missing bike lane pylons. I’m not sure they understand the implications of putting a replacement in the first slot. It’s already been entertaining enough, watching drivers speed along distracted, only to be violently shalen as they run over the protruding rumble bumps. I watched a car turn right off of Gregg and gun it like they were transporting donation organs. The boom of them hitting the pylon was amazing. The car braked and zigzagged, its lights flashing back and forth across the road. It came to a stop. I watched, waiting for the driver to get out and look at the car. They didn’t. They sped up the hill.

I’m glad I stuck around. The fox came out of the creek and stood by the bridge, watching me. I took a really great picture of the ground because I still had the phone camera on long exposure. The fox yelped at me and I yelped back. I would have gotten a better picture when the fox stopped in front of me and watched me. But a car came over the hill at 70 mph. Its lights washed out my camera lens as I snapped a picture. 

Earlier this morning, I witnessed the strangest non-chase chase as police cars pursued a white truck., only to get it stopped and then let it go. I had a lot of questions about that. 

It’s almost 70° and the air feels weird because of the rain coming in. Perfect morning to take a walk in the dark in the forest. When the acorns fall, they sound like boulders in this unusual air
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Spring In November

At 1:00 a.m., it was 69°. The wind was gusting and dragging the clouds across the sky like it was an early spring morning. Following the urge, I drove to the creek and went barefoot into the water and watched the sky. The insects were back, chirping their approval. 

It was a light show for me, powered by the breeze gusting through the trees and across the water.

To say that I reluctantly got out of the water to go to work is among the biggest understatements of the century. 

For a few minutes, I was alone in the world. Not that each of us isn’t inside our own thoughts. 

I had to check the calendar to be sure. That it’s November 18th. 

And 2025. 

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Pranks And History

I walked four miles out of my way just to prank a coworker by doing jumping jacks in his driveway in the dead dark of the morning.  I covered my face as I walked along the street without sidewalks and barely any street lights. And then did  jumping jacks backward, hoping his security cameras would catch the idiot performing in his driveway.

Tonight was also another chance to see the Leonid meteor showers. I walked backward for a while so that I could stare up in the correct direction. Even though it took me a long time to get there, there’s a stretch near the interstate where the sky stretches beautifully above.

I won’t bore you with how beautiful the meteor streaks were. I took slow motion video of the huge trucks thundering by two feet away, across the concrete divider that supposedly separates the interstate from the grass. 

I was astonished to see the behemouth unfinished skeletons of apartments rising on Mount Comfort Road. Because I had already walked too far, I walked through Mount Comfort cemetery, thinking about the expanse of time and the number of people who’ve been in the area. Trying to imagine what it might have been like in 1862 to camp there, waiting to march Prairie Grove. 163 years ago. That sounds ancient until I realized I have been alive more than 1/3 of those years. 

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Shenanigans

Making my way back in a huge loop, I cut through a field to avoid the two miles of walking required to get around by road. The wind was blowing 10 to 15 mph, rolling over me as I stood in the grass and watched the sky. It felt like a delicious summer moment. Off in the distance I heard a dog bark a couple of times. A couple of minutes later, I heard a soft rustle to my left. Looking over, I saw a light-colored Mastiff mix of some kind sitting on its back legs and looking at me. 

Because I’m eloquent, I put my phone in my pocket and squatted. “Who wants some pets?” The dog wagged its butt and came right up to me, nuzzling against my hand. I wasn’t worried because if it had wanted to, it could have launched like a missile and took me to the grass. It followed me to the fence along the highway. I gave it one more pet through the boards. 

I wanted to walk one more time around the park opposite the equine center. It’s deeply dark and the wind howls through there. It’s also a great place to watch the sky. Heading toward it, a GMC Yukon veered off of Garland and slowly drove down the length of the park and then followed the dark road around until about the halfway point. Whoever was driving left the headlights on. It’s an unusual time of the morning for anyone to be out there. 

Shenanigans came to mind. I walked down the side road and then cut to the left through the grass into the park. You have to keep in mind that it’s deeply dark there and the only light is a dim one generated from the pavilion lights that are left on overnight. Standing next to a tall oak tree, I could see the silhouette of someone standing near the front of the Yukon. 

Without trying to control it, I screeched one of my infamous pterodactyl screams. I let out a second one. It took no time at all for the person standing next to the vehicle to open the door, hop in, and drive to the end of the road next to Garland. They stopped. I’m pretty sure their eyes were scanning the park, trying to see the origin of the pterodactyl scream. I let out another one. The vehicle immediately swung right and drove away on Garland. 

I’m infinitely amused that whoever was driving might go home and tell people that they heard a monster in the dark. How are they going to know it was a middle-aged man walking around in the dark, trying to find lemon moments and shenanigans? 

I’m not accustomed to my long walks meeting the sunrise, or the tendrils of color immediately prior to it. The birds have awakened on their new fall schedule. “I don’t get the appeal,” people will sometimes honestly tell me, hearing about me wandering around when we’re supposed to be sleeping. It’s not something to get. It has to be experienced. It’s exactly like pretty much every other human experience.

It’s for the same reason I climbed up on top of the 10 foot high mound of dirt next to the railroad tracks, not caring that I might fall down. The decibels of the air horn and the thunder of the tracks made the inside of my spine tickle as I stood on top of the mound and watched the train pass. The sunrise behind it. Try explaining that sort of thing to other adults who would never in a million years do it, even if I enthusiastically explained to them that it is as a memorable experience as watching the sunrise shine across a mountain in the middle of the wilderness. 

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Impossible November 14th

Speaking of impossibly beautiful mornings, this is one of them in Northwest Arkansas. 65°, breezy, with humidity high enough to blanket surfaces in dampness. If you’re lucky enough to walk under an oak tree when the wind gusts, you might get pelted with multiple acorns as you pass. 

The crows are arguing, once again proving that marriage exists in nature.

If you look up, you’ll be rewarded with blankets of all manner of leaves twirling down to add to the growing carpet on the ground.

It’s hard to believe it’s November 14th and that will likely have 70° weather the remainder of the week. 

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