Category Archives: Razorback Greenway

Behavior, Fayetteville, Lemon Moment, Razorback Greenway

Thursday A.M.

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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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Lemon Moment, Personal, Razorback Greenway
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Climb

I didn’t have much time and maybe that’s why the urge to ascend seemed reasonable. I jumped across the gap between the trees. Had I missed, I would have taken a swim. Up I went, for some reason confidently and quickly. Because I was near the trail, I got a good laugh because two bike cops rolled past. Both of them did a long double take, probably to confirm they were in fact looking at a middle-aged man dressed in blue rapidly climbing a tree that didn’t look like it should be climbed. I expected them to turn around and at least ask me questions out of curiosity. They didn’t, so I continued to climb. I didn’t risk the long step over to the adjacent tree, one of those in the pictures. But I did perch up there high enough to feel the amazing breeze. I wonder what these same trees might look like from 10,000 feet. There’s only one way to find out. And that makes me secretly smile too. 

X

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Fayetteville, Lemon Moment, Personal, Razorback Greenway

Egg Adventure Follow-Up

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Egg Surprise Follow-Up

My egg surprise, hidden in Fayetteville, was found on Easter of all days.

I wondered why I hadn’t heard from the person who found it. It turns out the email was hidden in my spam folder in my other email since Easter Day. 🙂

She wrote to me and told me she had walked further along than normal and spotted it there. It sparked her curiosity, and she ventured into the fringe of the woods to retrieve it.

As promised in the note included in the egg, I will leave her another surprise, this one intended just for her.

When I opened the email, I felt pure joy and adventure, knowing that one of my shenanigans had resulted in a great moment for someone I didn’t know. I was touched more than I realized I would be.

Love, X

Art, Behavior, Fayetteville, Opinion, Personal, Politics, Razorback Greenway

Not Me!

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Someone asked me if I was the one writing the political messages on the sidewalks. No. I don’t see anything wrong with it. It washes off. My sidewalk antics are always shenanigans. If I were to ever write anything controversial, I would sign it. It’s part of the reason my Facebook posts and other accounts are public. You either enjoy a good combination of wacko and introspection, or you don’t. In this day, trying to sway someone’s political opinions is exactly like attempting to microwave your own head. With just about the same results.

Love, X
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Fayetteville, Humor, Personal, Razorback Greenway, Safety, Security

Thanks, Gomez!

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I saw him coming up the trail access. The shadows and lighting at 2 a.m. were murky at best. His approach seemed suspicious. I’m not generally concerned about the what-ifs of such people. Someone can just as easily jump onto me from the tree canopy if they’d like. (At times, I almost wish someone would. What a story that would be.) I can run fast, and my appearance tricks people into thinking I’m Gomer. While I am no Bruce Lee, I can snatch someone bald-headed faster than they can say “supercalifragilisticexpialidocious.” I say “hello” or wave to everyone. I’d probably wave “howdy” to the Queen if she came sightseeing.

It had to be a man approaching me or perhaps the Beauty Queen of Madison County. I realize that I am repeating myself with that comparison. My apologies to the residents of Madison County, all of whom stopped reading after the first paragraph due to lip fatigue.

As he grew closer, the light from the streetlight illuminated him more. He had one hand in his pocket, and his pace seemed off.

As he came closer, my comedic instincts took over. “Have you seen my pet llama? He got out of the backyard a few minutes ago.”

“What’s that you said? A llama?” He pronounced it oddly, like he’d grown up learning phonetics from an inebriated bingo caller.

“A llama, yes. He got out.”

He stopped in his tracks, confused. “No. Not even a dog.”

“Dang. Thanks. I can’t own dogs, though. Not after Ohio.”

I could see that the gears weren’t clicking. It was too much odd conversation. He looked back and then at me two or three times.

“Well, have a good morning. I hope my llama is okay.”

“Yeah, me too,” he said, and kept walking, this time with a stable pace. I briefly wondered what he might do if I started running toward HIM. Imagine that police report.

“Gomez, where are you?” I half-shouted, even if the residents are the nearby apartment complex heard me.

My llama Gomez didn’t materialize.

You’re welcome to use the Gomez the Llama self-defense response if you’d like.

X
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Exercise, Lemon Moment, Personal, Razorback Greenway

A Cup And A Walk

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Earlier, the urge to walk in this beautiful weather overwhelmed me. Erika wasn’t as enthusiastic about the idea, but I sold her with the insistence that once we started walking, it would be both beautiful and enjoyable. My 5-minute Rule seldom lets me down in terms of procrastination and enjoyment. We went to the Carol Scypc Trailhead in Johnson. It’s proximate and like the rest of the trail, it’s gorgeous. For fans of dapper Don Moore, that’s where you’ll likely see him walking his dog Diego.

A couple of weeks ago as I entered the apartment, my cat Gùino overzealously ran in front of me to get to the anticipated plate of cat juice that he knew would be waiting for him. I had to let go of everything in my hands because of the certainty I was going to faceplant. My favorite coffee cup lost the battle with the ensuing collision with the floor. Pieces flew in every direction. On a whim I collected and kept the pieces. When the motivation struck me, I glued it inexpertly back together.

With that in mind, on today’s walk, I took the repaired cup and a piece of wire with me on the walk. The cup is one I made myself, inscribed with the reminder of, “Choose Your Hard.” I owe that one to my cousin Lynette. Her picture is also on the cup. The choose-your-hard motto simply put is a reminder that you’re going to have to put the work in one way or another, either at the front end when it’s easier, or after, when you face the consequences of poor decisions.

When Erika and I were most of the way back, we stopped at the last bridge junction so that I could hang the cup in a tree near the bubbling creek. I think she sometimes grows weary of me telling her how striking she is when the sun hits her face and shoulders. For those of you familiar with the trail, it’s near the spot where two ancient pickup trucks sit at the perimeter of the trail. It’s also where I placed a keepsake watch of mine a few months ago. I hated to let the cup go and sometimes that’s when I feel most satisfied when I part with something. Everything is going to go one way or another. It’s good practice. And I hope that people will look at it quizzically and with enough curiosity to occasionally walk over to it to investigate. I’ve placed dozens of things along the trails and the places around here in Fayetteville. Some obscured, some in plain sight.

A cup, a reminder, and a beautiful January Saturday afternoon.

Was it worth it to venture out and have the experience? Hell yes. Such a simple thing.

Love, X

Behavior, Erika Saboe, Lemon Moment, Nostalgia, Personal, Razorback Greenway, Relationships

Stones Away

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Every stone is a story. Of love, loss, regret, lessons, and acceptance.

I put one down, a singular stone, yesterday.

I placed it on a stem I bit off with my teeth.

Looking closely at the picture, you’ll see it handing in the branches. I took the picture when Erika and I walked the trail yesterday. Our walk went by the place that inspired my “¿” story from last Sunday. Pictures don’t capture how eerily overcast and beautifully the morning was. It was a stolen moment of warmth, falling leaves, and intimacy as our feet moved us along the path.

Fifteen years I carried that weight. I broke the watch purposefully all those years ago. A memento.

It’s on the trail now, maybe forever, maybe for a day.

It’s behind me now. Just as everything really is. I forgot I still had it. As I have with so many mementos lately, I wanted to release it and take back the power it once contained.

Everyone’s wounded in their own way. It’s easy to forget that because we feel like we have to conceal the hurt.

Because optimism is a consequence of love, the stone I left behind yesterday left my fingers easily. Erika stood behind me on the trail, watching me clumsily find my way closer to the abandoned trucks decomposing in the brush. After I walked back to the trail to meet her there and continue our lovely walk, I was happy.

Stones aren’t meant to be carried. They are meant to be measured, appreciated, and then left behind. If I had to carry all my accumulated stones, walking would be impossible, as unlikely as finding happiness if I were focused on my missteps.

Don’t forget your stones. Just don’t carry them.

Every stone in your pocket, in your heart, or in your head reduces your ability to siphon the good from whatever awaits you today.

Love, X
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PS I hadn’t heard the song “Stones” by Barbarossa until yesterday. I didn’t watch “HIMYM” like so many other people did. It got in my head to remind myself that every morning I get to decide whether to carry the stones or hurl them into the air – and away, where they belong.

Lemon Moment, Personal, Razorback Greenway

Deciduously Stolen Moment

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When I walked up the trail, a group of trees dropped about a thousand leaves. By the time I got my camera out and my fumble fingers straight, I caught the end of it.

I understand the biochemical reaction that causes such a simultaneous shedding of deciduous leaves.

Understanding it does not make it any less beautiful.

I stood under the trees and let the leaves rain on me.

It was indeed a stolen moment.

X
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Humor, Lemon Moment, Personal, Razorback Greenway

Chalk Rebuttal

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The older lady in the pink shirt was walking with her husband. I could see it on her face, the reprimand approaching. She did not appreciate me having fun by the trail.

I said good morning.

She scowled and did that “ack” sound.

“Don’t you have something better to do?” Her voice was crawling with derision.

I replied in gibberish, as if I were speaking a foreign language. Although I thought it was impossible, her face became even more ugly with disapproval.

Because I’ve seen them on the trail several times, I know they will return this way in 15 or 20 minutes.

So, I pulled out my trusty stick of chalk and wrote this:

“Dear Pink Shirt Lady… I’m grateful that I’m happy. And sad that you’re not.”

I can only imagine the consternation and the infinite acking noises she will emit when she sees my chalk-scawled message.

Love, X

Fayetteville, Lemon Moment, Personal, Razorback Greenway

Creek Reveries

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I’m off work. Because the water has subsided, I wanted to soak my feet in the cold water and walk down the middle of the creek. I can’t describe how refreshing it is, or to hear the water cascade. I was reminded to watch the tangled branches on the creek side a little more closely. I walked right up on this little fellow with his head poking out of the water. There are a few snakes sunning on one side of the creek. If they’re floating down the creek, I just remain motionless and watch them pass. It is beautiful in here! The access walk is still flooded, so most people will not get their feet wet, much less like I do and take my shoes and socks off. I have the entire creek to myself except for the snakes and turtles – and the unseen birds singing in the trees and brush. It’s hard to worry about life with all this around me. I will walk back up the creek, moving my feet along the bottom to find purchase, in a few minutes. I hate to break the reverie of this moment!

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