On Sunday, I faced the choice of tackling the foothills of paper on my work table, or taking a bike ride with my husband.
    The bike ride won, though I did have to convince my inner responsible person that those foothills would be climbed … later, when the sun was not beaming and the outdoors were not calling.
    My husband, a bicycling explorer, had been wanting to show me Pennypack Park, an amazing stretch of woods in Northeast Philadelphia. We rode for about an hour, following the meandering trail of the creek, surrounded by greenery. Occasionally we pedaled under a lofty concrete overpass, a reminder of the city beyond.
    The reflections in the water were amazing, and deep. You could get dizzy looking into the landscape mirrored upside down.
    Ken and one of his bicycling buddies had been on the same trail earlier in the morning, and they had spotted an egret along the way.
    Seems the egret liked the territory. As we cruised along the creek, we saw a flash of white: A tall bird waded slowly by the far bank, then froze.
    I thought perhaps the bird knew we were watching, but the real reason for its stillness became plain. In a splash, the egret darted its bill into the water, and shook a meal down its throat.
    Stealth egret.
    I’m glad my inner responsible person gave me the afternoon off.