When I slow down enough to observe,
I notice inside my head a mood of
frantic activity, as though
there’s never enough time.
But as I look out the window, I see
a world in slow motion.  The tall grasses
at the end of the canal stand in peace,
soaking in the sun,  Spanish moss
hanging from the live oak, drifts
in the breeze.  A gentle motion
in the leaves of my new tree.
Even the birds and turtles seem
to be taking the day off.  Not
a one in sight.