Wednesday, September 01, 2010

Beavers in Beaverton? What's next, farms in Berkeley?

One thing I like about Oregon is its tendency toward hidden parks.

Behind the huge grocery store, a narrow path leads you past an apartment complex. If you walk between the tall, gloomy buildings, you find yourself on a pleasantly shaded walking path along a stream.

Follow the path down to the bridge over the small lake, and a horde of ducks make a beeline straight toward you.

The other day, back when it was sunny and summery still, I took a walk there at lunchtime. It was a marvelous feeling to escape, even if only for an hour. The people-in-charge-of-parks had started to renovate the bridge, but they had to stop because they discovered beavers had built a dam there.

Couldn’t see the beavers, but it’s kinda cool to know that the original inhabitants haven’t been completely evicted by us newcomers.

Exercise du jour: Walking. Keep it simple and I might just make it.

The title explained: There used to be... maybe still is... a company called Berkeley Farms, who sold milk and had the slogan "Farms? In Berkeley?" It's hard to imagine any agriculture going on in a densely crowded city like that.


messymimi said...

We actually have farms around here. There are even subdivisions technically outside the city limits, but surrounded by neighborhoods and shopping centers just a mile away, where people keep barn animals in their yards.

Enjoy your beavers, all we get are possoms, 'coons, squirrels, and nutria.

Merry said...

There are some pocket farms around here too. I think they're fun; you're driving past subdivision after identical subdivision, and suddenly there's a flock of sheep in a field. Some people hate them, say they lower property values. But since the farms were there first, I don't think they're lowering anything.

Cat said...

Yes, hideaway parks can be neat finds!


Lu said...

You're lucky to live in a place with hidden parks. I wish I could walk in a shaded area at lunch. All I get is a walk out in 100+ weather, in south Texas. And I'm usually a puddle by the time I get back to my desk. You'll make it.