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Like many commuters I travel to work using the same route almost everyday. I enjoy some of the commute, despite the traffic.

On Monday thru Friday I take George Bush to Jupiter Road and head south. Almost as soon as I turn onto Jupiter I see a group of kids waiting for a bus. I am sure, that to many of you that is not a big deal, you see groups of kids on your route too.

Standing in this group, there is one boy about 10 or 11 years old, who always grabs my attention. It does not matter if it is 7:00 am or 7:20 when I get by there. He is standing in the same location, sometimes by himself, waiting for the bus. At the beginning of the school year when the sun was high in the sky by 6:30 he had a book open and was reading oblivious of the morning traffic. Behind him the other children ran back and forth playing games or just talking.

I wondered if the kid was a nerd or just so enthralled with his reading that nothing else mattered. And then I thought of myself, if he is a nerd then I must be one to, reading is one of my favorite pastimes.

There was this one-day that I remember the most. I approached the bus stop and noticed that he seemed more excited. As the traffic slowed to a halt due to the light at the intersection, I saw him turn around and call his friends to him. Obediently they approached. When he knew he had the other kids attention he turned the book around so that he could show the kids the item on a page that caught his attention. As if listening to a teacher they all tuned into whatever this boy was explaining.

Just before the light turned green the young boy turned around to face the traffic, a very large smile crossed his face. His eyes were large with the excitement from what he had just shown the other kids.

I wanted to pull over and ask him what he had just shown the kids, I wanted to find out what books he read so intently, but I was in a hurry to get to work, on that particular day we were to start a new landscape job and I had to make sure that the instructions from our landscape architect were printed out. I drove on. For the rest of the day I wondered what the boy had taught his friends that day.

Now, it is towards the end of October and he cannot read his books for lack of daylight. While all the other kids run around as usual, he stands facing the traffic seemingly just watching the cars go by. His large smile, his large eyes seem to hint that he is busy in his thoughts. I would guess, doing mathematical equations or reciting the periodic table.

My commute takes me further south down Jupiter Road. As I leave Richardson and enter Garland, things change. I am no longer passing beautiful homes with price tags exceeding 4 or 500,000 dollars. Now the houses, on the west side, are in the 60 to 160,000 dollar range. The apartments on the east side, are old and run down.

I cross over Walnut Drive and come upon block after block of school kids waiting for their bus. What I notice now is that the kids are not waiting alone. Every corner has six or seven kids running around, playing with each other. There are also four or five adults watching their every move, making sure that they are safe. “Safe from what?”

As I approach Plaza Park Dr. I noticed a telephone post. On the post about five feet off the ground there is a plastic wreath. Just a few feet away in the far right lane there are some painted marks on the roadway indicating the path from an unknown vehicle. The paint stops at a figure drawn on the street. The figure is an outline of a person that had been hit by this unknown vehicle.

I first noticed the crime scene in September, it has been three months and this sad reminder still remains painted on the roadway for the kids to see. I want to stop and ask the parents if they knew what happened, but I am in a school zone and the traffic is heavy. I am also running a little late and do not have time to stop.

I can only imagine that since Garland has started to sell beer and wine incidents like this will increase, more parents will have to stay near their children making sure that they are safe, that their children do not play near the street.

On Saturdays and Sundays I take a different route to work. Traffic is light on Central Expressway and LBJ over the weekend. I can dive more relaxed and not have to worry about stopping at so many intersections as on my weekday route.

I remember the second weekend of October; it was the 14^th. As I traveled east on Plano Parkway, I am surprised to see all the colors of fall in one of the few wooded areas left on this street. The sun was shinning brightly on the leaves of these trees creating a beautiful array of colors. Bright yellows, reds, oranges, mixed in with brown and still green leaves made me want to pull over and identify the trees that are showing off their colors. But like other motorist I was in a hurry to get to work. I made a promise to return while the leaves are in full color.

Early morning on Sunday the 22^nd of October, I was driving to an appointment. I was to be my customer’s house at 8:30. The skies were clear, the sun already above the horizon. I was heading south on 75 and approaching Campbell Road.

I noticed a few birds scattered on the telephone lines around Café Brazil. As I got nearer to the Radison Hotel, I noticed thousands of birds roosting in trees, on top of signs and perched on all the utilities lines that were available.

I had a few minutes to spare, so I pulled over onto the shoulder. Birds that were waking up started to depart, the departure was lethargic, not one bird seemed to be in a hurry. As one bird took flight another followed close behind. A few hundred yards away, the scene repeated itself as just a few birds took off. I wondered if these were the scouts? And then!

Was it the sun; was it the winds changing direction?

As if a starting gun announced the beginning of the Boston Marathon thousands if not millions of birds departed. The sky to the west turned gray, if only for an instance, as the mass departure occurred. Never had I seen something as organized as this. Not one bird crashed into another. Not one bird lost any time or spent any excess amount of effort to head south. As marathon runners ready for the beginning of a race they all pushed off of their perches heading east for just a second and then changed directions due south. Quickly they gained altitude and grouped up for their flight.

It took just a few minutes before they were out of sight, I started the trucks engine again, flicked my left blinker on to let the traffic know that I was intending to enter the freeway. Before I pulled off of the shoulder I noticed that behind me there were at least five other cars that had pulled over to see this fantastic departure. I wanted to stop the car, jump out and ask the occupants of the cars behind me if they were as awestruck as I was, but some of the cars had already pulled on to the expressway. I decided that for my safety and since I was now running late, I should just go on.

As I was heading south I hoped to catch up to the birds. But, I would never see them again.

Everyday we drive to and from work. We are on the constant look out for cars that may be changing lanes or kids that may be crossing the street, but do we pay attention to things that may delight us, that may interest us? Do we have time to stop and take pleasure in things that we see? Do we not stop because we are afraid that new social behaviors forbid us to question a child’s reading or antics?

What about when we get home, do we make time to enter our back yards and observe the beauty of nature as it unfolds before our very eyes? How many of you have seen the shadow of an owl swooping down behind you as you disturbed its sleep?

I have! It was a scary but wonderful experience to know that he had perched in my back yard. The shadow cast from the setting sun made the bird look so large that I thought that it was attacking me. As I fell to the ground and looked up at the departing bird, I realized that it was only a foot long, its wingspan, however, was about three feet wide. Not a sound was heard except for my loudly thumping heart.

I walk around my property a lot preferring to go down into the edge of the creek bed where a path leads around fallen trees trunks and majestic Willows, Cottonwoods and Sycamores. This path leads to a clearing where the creek has formed a small ravine.

One day as I approached the ravine, I heard a loud slapping noise. I looked up just in time to see the ugliest creature I had ever seen and it was attacking me.

I turned around, the slapping noise got louder, I cowered near the ground covering the back of my head with my hands. And then it was gone.

I picked myself up and ran to the house. I entered screaming: “Victor! VICtor! VICTOR!” I heard him running towards me, he knew I was rattled. I picked up a camera. “Come with me quick, I was just attacked by a Pterodactyl. Come with me, lets go look.”

We hurried back to the creek and headed south, towards the area where I thought I saw the big bird land. We saw it and approached slowly. I was deep into the back of the property now. It had been a year or so since I was back this far. Here some of the older trees reached one hundred feet or so. I looked at one of the trees; it seemed to be ready to topple over. I was glad I saw this, it was almost as if this bird was warning me of an impending disaster.

Victor and I got closer to the bird. Victor stepped on a dried branch, snapping it. The loud cracking sound caused the bird to turn towards us. It ran just a few feet, I saw it flap it’s large wings. Slap-slap-slap. Its beak seemed to be pointed at my eyes. I covered my face squinting through my fingers. And then I saw it take flight. I scrambled to point the camera in the general direction of the bird. Click. Click. And it was gone.

It is amazing what happens to us when we look beyond our comfort areas. If we can observe things beyond our normal routine we can learn to correct things, or prevent things from happening.

Before Day Light Saving changed I walked out to my truck. I do not go out the garage preferring a route that takes me down a path of steps, around a small perennial garden and back up another stairway that leads out to the driveway. Since it was dark I could not really see where I was, but I knew my way by heart.

The winds from the night before caused a few branches from an espalier to come loose I a branch snagged my sweater. As I stopped to unhook myself another branch hit me in the face. It was a soft fragrant slap. At the end of the branch there was a rose in full bloom. It was from my Sombreuil Climbing Rose.

It was like some one was saying: “Slow down, stop and smell the roses!”

And I did. If only for that day I took time to smell that rose, I also took time later in the day to call David Hurt, owner of Wild Birds Unlimited on Lovers Lane. I told him about my past experience on Central and asked him what kid of birds they might be.

“How big were they? Did you notice the size of their beaks or tails? What about coloring did you see any distinctive colors?” he quizzed me.

“I was a block away. I just saw birds!”

“Well, at this time of the year they could have been a combination of starlings, cowbirds or redwing blackbirds. Since they are small birds they will flock together to have strength in numbers. They like to roost in areas with heavy human populations, since there are fewer chances of predators.”

The birds that caught my attention allowing me to see nature up close, that caused me to find out more about their instincts allowing me to call someone who was willing to answer questions and share their knowledge.

With the winter coming the cooler temperatures may allow us to spend more time in our garden or to stop at some park and admire the colors of fall.

Anyway, I am glad to know that there are people that I can call and get answers to my many questions. The funny thing is that many times the questions that I ask are questions that I need to ask on behalf of my customers. It is rare that I take the time to find out things that I need to know for my own benefit. They say what comes around goes around, in many instances past findings have helped me resolve problems that latter occurred at my house.

Many of you know that Rohde’s is a service-oriented business that handles most lawn and garden issues. Please, do not hesitate to ask us with help that may resolve any of your landscape needs. As you walk around your property take notes and take photos and either send them in or better yet bring them in to the nursery. Let us help answer your questions. And while you are out and about your garden: DO NOT FORGET TO SMELL THE ROSES.

I finished the newsletter early November 2^nd. As I was about to send it off to our email customers I received the following: (What a coincidence!)

A mouse looked through the crack in the wall to see the farmer and his wife open a package. "What food might this contain?" The mouse wondered - he was devastated to discover it was a mousetrap. Retreating to the farmyard, the mouse proclaimed the warning. "There is a mousetrap in the house! There is a mousetrap in the house!"

The chicken clucked and scratched, raised her head and said, "Mr. Mouse, I can tell his is a grave concern to you but it is of no consequence to me. I cannot be bothered by it."

The mouse turned to the pig and told him, "There is a mousetrap in the house! There is mousetrap in the house!"

The pig sympathized, but said, "I am so very sorry, Mr. Mouse, but there is nothing I can do about it but pray. Be assured you are in my prayers."

The mouse turned to the cow and said, "There is a mousetrap in the house! There is a mousetrap in the house!"

The cow said, "Wow, Mr. Mouse. I'm sorry for you, but it's no skin off my nose."

So, the mouse returned to the house, head down and dejected, to face the farmer's mousetrap, alone.

That very night a sound was heard throughout the house, like the sound of a mousetrap catching its prey.

The farmer's wife rushed to see what was caught. In the darkness, she did not see it was a venomous snake whose tail the trap had caught. The farmer rushed her to the hospital and after a few days she returned home. She still had a fever. Everyone knows you treat a fever with fresh chicken soup, so the farmer took his hatchet to the farmyard for the soup's main ingredient.

But his wife's sickness continued, so friends and neighbors came to sit with her around the clock.

To feed them, the farmer butchered the pig.

The farmer's wife did not get well; she died.

So many people came for her funeral, the farmer had the cow slaughtered to provide enough meat for all of them.

The mouse looked upon it all from his crack in the wall with great sadness.

So, the next time you hear someone is facing a problem and think it doesn't concern you, remember, when one of us is threatened, we are all at risk. We are all involved in this journey called life. We must keep an eye out for one another and make an extra effort to encourage one another.