This isn’t a blog about the World Series or even Nebraska Football. I love to walk on the bicycle path near my office and make it a regular habit to walk at noon. The half-hour jaunt gets me out of the office, into the fresh air. The exercise clears my mind. The morning pressures almost melt away. Though I have been doing this for over thirteen years (with varying frequency) I never get tired of the same stretch of concrete connected to the MOPAC trail that leads to the east of Lincoln, Nebraska. This trail, built on the abandoned Missouri Pacific Railroad bed, leads eastward nearly to the Missouri river near Omaha. It is frequented by bicycle enthusiasts, runners, workers out for a noon break, and mothers with their strollers. The trail is lined by a wide variety of trees and shrubs casting shade and showering their fall leaves over the casual walker. So what was red? As I left the concrete path not far down the white rock MOPAC a fluffy red fox rustled the leaves, glanced my way, then scurried quickly up the berm disappearing in seconds. I kept walking smiling at the sight. I have never seen a fox as I walked along the trail. I continued my walk, keeping my pace quick. Squirrels chattered above, a blue jay drew a crowd of angry sparrows all flitting away as a bicycle rushed past. There was silence for a moment, then the natural sounds began again. As I reached my farthest point I glanced up, just in time to see the beautiful black striped body of a downy wood pecker head topped with his red cap gliding across the path from tree to tree. The west breeze now full I my face I returned to the part of the path, now covered with concrete, then back to my office and the completion of my day.