Urban Hiking

Clay and I both had Memorial Day off, and the weather was gorgeous (which was a pleasant surprise, as it usually rains on these 3-day weekends). We were both up pretty early, so we decided to go for a walk and try to get some nice photos. There is an extensive bike path/jogging trail system in the Eugene-Springfield area, so we don't even have to drive somewhere first before beginning our hike-we can just walk from our house down to the trails along the river. I love Spring; there are tons of beautiful flowers everywhere! Rhododendrons, azaleas, irises, roses, and many more that I don't even know the names of. I saw a lovely "snowball bush" -- I've loved those since I was a child.

We walked 5.15 miles (Clay took his GPS, as I always want to know exactly how far I walked, and I insisted on claiming every last inch!)

At the beginning of our walk, it was early enough that the flowers still had dew on them.




We love trees so much in Eugene that they just build around them rather than remove them.



Even though we were basically surrounded by the city, it still felt like we were out in the country somewhere (except for the noise from the freeway!)


If looks could kill....I don't think this bird liked us invading his territory!




The city is hidden behind the line of trees.

I love the bike paths along the Willamette River. I like looking up at the sun shining down through the tops of the trees.

We were out early enough that we didn't run into very many people on the paths.

We live just off this street -- Garden Way, which is really living up to its name this time of year.

The poppies were beautiful. I know they're not exactly the same as the ones that we usually associate with veterans, but since it was Memorial Day, they did remind me of the poem:

In Flander's Fields

by John McCrae

In Flanders Fields the poppies blow,

Between the crosses, row on row,

That mark our place; and in the sky,

The larks, still bravely singing, fly,

Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the dead. Short days ago,

We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,

Loved and were loved and now we lie,

In Flanders Fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe

To you, from failing hands, we throw,

The torch, be yours to hold it high.

If ye break faith with us, who die,

We shall not sleep, though poppies grow,

In Flanders Fields.