Walking

Man, I could get so seriously used to having the Town Lake hike and bike trail right outside my building at work. And, indeed, I plan to. Talk about a fringe benefit!

I used to walk along the bayfront in Corpus at lunchtime, although eventually I gave it up - taking lunch was kind of frowned upon at my job, plus there was so much unwelcome attention. It's a shame, because the Corpus bayfront is very pretty.

The Town Lake hike and bike trail on a sunny day is a wonderful thing. There's a great mix of people using it - people pushing strollers, people walking dogs, people jogging, people biking, people in office clothes just sauntering along, a friendly, gray-bearded man strumming a guitar near the Stevie Ray Vaughn statue, a harmless lunatic fishing in the six-inch-deep ornamental goldfish pond.

Under the Congress Avenue bridge, you can hear (and smell!) the bats. I glance up anxiously as I pass underneath. I really would rather not go through the afternoon at work with bat poop in my hair.

There's one spot beside the trail where the same three geese hang out all the time and watch the passerby. They remind me of parade spectators, except that parade spectators don't usually bend over to sample mysterious goodies on the ground. (Not before the fifth beer or so, anyway.) Today, while the geese had stepped away for a quick swim, a jogger rested there and was stretching out his muscles. The geese returned and walked right up beside him, staring. I swear if they could talk they'd have asked him what the hell he was doing in their spot.

But he stayed there, stretching, and the geese were philosophical about it. They remained within a foot or so of him, and went back to watching the hikers and bikers and strollers and joggers and dogwalkers, and discovering yummies in the grass.

On Earth, the bumper sticker says, as it is in Austin. It was a nice day.