walk - urban and rural

It's really quite stunning: one can walk down one's (sub)urban street - and one of my favorite front yards on our own street is shown above - and within ten minutes, or thereabouts, be out in wild California, or at least as wild as one can get in Griffith Park.

I hadn't really been intending to head up here this morning, but Alice - with her problematic Achilles tendon and tibial something or the other that whine complainingly when they are faced with a steep hill - had gone off to teach on the flat plains of USC, and I went to see if I could work out what was happening with the house below us and some large fence posts that have gone up (still a mystery) - and then thought, why not?  It was a relatively cool, still fairly misty morning, with a hawk sitting on an old tree branch once I got to the top of the trail.

And then, half an hour later, back in the neighborhood, well exercised (my Apple watch called it 27 flights of stairs, which was, I suppose, some kind of approximation, though hardly adequate to the elevation, I felt).