Right at my doorstep is a terrific walk. It follows one street up to the summit of Rocky Butte, one of Portland’s hills that are ancient volcanic plugs, then around a loop at the top to admire the view of much larger volcanoes (Hood, St. Helens), and finally down and home by a different street. It’s three miles and, if Fitbit is to be believed, the equivalent of climbing 33 flights of stairs. People come from all around to walk or bike Rocky Butte, on whose shin my house is perched. For a long time, this was my almost-daily walk, but I fell out of the habit. Now I’m reviving it. Yesterday morning’s walk rewarded me with this gorgeously shaded fallen maple leaf–a reminder that cooler weather is coming, an encouragement to keep walking up that hill.