Gravel Companion

Cruising the early Sunday morning silence is like the whole world belongs to me. Well, at least northwest Denton County. I roll through ranch land, from ridge to ridge, on gravel roads that are empty. Familiar routes, but somehow different, in a lonely sort of way.
Until this fella spots me.
From all I can see, he’s out cruising the countryside also. Without a bark or a whimper, he runs along side as if he’d been waiting for me to arrive. For a couple of miles, we travel together. But when the gravel road ends at pavement, I go on alone. Content in his place, he has no use for what the paved road offers.

Sneaking Up on Me

Things are changing fast around here. My yard looks different in the afternoon than it did in the morning. Every time I look out the window, there is a new surprise. I know it is spring time, but new leaves and blooms still sneak up on me.
Today, pedaling downhill into a headwind, I had that creepy feeling. That creepy feeling like someone was sneaking up on me. Then movement caught the extreme left edge of my field of vision. Startled, I glanced left.
Silently, and just 8 feet off the ground, two large geese flew beside me just beyond the fence on the left side of the road. Their flight was smooth, silent, and appeared effortless. Moving faster than me, they glided down the hillside parallel to the fence. Then simultaneously, they banked left, rose gradually, and disappeared over the ridge.
No honking.