The Canyon

Twice a week, my friend C. and I take our dogs and hop in the car for a short ride up a main boulevard in our city.

We pull off on a side street and head out on foot, dogs straining at the leashes in excitement.

They know they're going to The Canyon. First, they surge up this hill:

In a minute, they look out on this view:

A city of three million people lies at their feet, but here in this canyon, they see only bushes, trees, and distant blue mountains:

Our dogs know they're going to meet lots of other dogs on the trail:

Dogs walking. Dogs jogging:

Dogs standing quietly by as their owners get in a few calisthenics:

The sound of birds fills the crisp, clean air:

And around every bend, there's a friendly pooch to greet:

All the dogs brim with excitement, released for a bit from the cement and asphalt of the city that has dropped away below them:

At the hike's halfway point, there's a refreshing fountain made just for canines:

And then it's off to say Hello to more new friends:

 The path descends, back into the neighborhoods that cling to the canyon's sides:

The bushes wave their goodbyes, the blue skies float overhead like a benediction:

As C. and I tell ourselves how lucky we are to live so close to such an unspoiled bit of Nature in the heart of a big city.