I've rather  enjoyed my slower pace of life of late. Rather than  bicycling, I've  begun taking lazy strolls  to work, enjoying the  hour  it takes to walk the three or so miles. My mindset has become  increasingly meditative. In such  mind, even something as leisurely as bicycling seems stressful. One must  concentrate while on two wheels in order to avoid running over walkers and joggers on the trail (not to mention being flattened by other bicyclists) and being reduced to squishy goo by cars on the streets. Walking is slow, unobtrusive. I can look up at the trees and birds as I saunter upon trail and sidewalk, able to enjoy (my god, for once!) the swaying tops of pecan trees brushing the sky and the bowing tops of Cypress trees genuflecting to the lake below.

There is time for cloud images. The puffy cumulus clouds this time of year lead to no dearth of preening turtles, dancing monkeys, leaping angry Greek Gods wielding pitchforks, baboons with hammers, and squalling babies heaving gigantic rattles to and fro.

Everything comes alive. Dogs on leashes catch your eye and seem to smile back, or at  least give you a "how ya doin'?" Curious squirrels approach you, noses twitching, casting queries regarding your sharable food supply.

I think I hear a distant ambulance. For a moment, I wonder what accident has befallen some unfortunate soul. I listen closer. On a dime, the siren becomes a car alarm. I shake my head and listen even closer. It's coming from the tree. I've been  duped. It's just mockingbird. Mockingbirds, they'll mock anything. It's a bird that's quite proud of its brashness -  appropriate for the State Bird of Texas, I'd say.

Humans become but distant statues, save for small children who still shoot sparks from their little souls as they absorb their  new world. As children run about, excited about every little thing, their parents are practically yawning, never able to get home  soon enough.

"Patos! Patos!" cried the little black-haired girl in the pink dress, brown eyes shining, her little legs wobbly, barely able  to keep pace with her excitement. Her black Mary Jane style shoes scraped the cinder below her feet sending up tiny clouds of dust in her wake.

"Si!" her father mumbled, glancing at his cell phone.

"What else?" he shot back.

"Ducks!" she exclaimed.

They continued this exchange as their voices disappeared behind me.

"Lago!"

"What else?"

"Lake!"

"Rio!" her Papa said.

"Wibber!" she answered.

Bicycles whiz by at an alarming rate.

What's the hurry? I wonder.

Yes, why so fast?

You are missing it my friend.

You may have places to go, but you are already here.

I get the feeling that I'm only catching half of it.