Just the way our bodies become acclimated to summer weather and our minds accept that instead of layering to maintain body heat in the acutely cold days of winter, we're now looking to shelter ourselves from the enervating head. That's one aspect of summer, of course. The other being the sense of spontaneity more possible, summer's invitation to join nature on the spur-of-the-moment, no jackets, hoods, mittens, boots required. Either for us or for our pups.

 

 

There are, of course, the other issues, such as energy-fuel; what to prepare for meals during really hot summer days. Salads always come to mind, of one kind or another and they're appealing. But the mind turns to 'what kind of dishes do I usually reserve for hot weather?' and suddenly you think of things like cheese blintzes. So that's what we had last night. Earlier, I had simmered a few apples and made applesauce to go along with the blintzes, frigid from refrigeration.

 

 

We're still in the throes of a heat wave, though it's moderated; 29C today with clear skies and humidity along with a fiery wind. So breakfast of steamed oatmeal worked fine, preceded by huge navel oranges and bananas, followed by coffee/tea. Bowls of oatmeal taste even better scattering seeds over them like ground flaxseed, chia seeds, sunflower seeds and pumpkin seeds. With lots of milk.

 

 

Yesterday's heat was hard to take and we managed, but even so it's walking on the street that feels like a blast furnace. Once we're in the shade of the forest canopy there's relief. Brief relief, in the sense that the energy it takes to climb hills and prowl along the trails, is heat-producing itself. By the time we return home we feel fairly tested, and glad to be entering an air-conditioned environment. Even Jackie and Jillie seem to appreciate shorter runs through the trails.

 

Last night was a peculiar one. At around midnight the winds blasted rain at the windows. I woke repeatedly during the night for very brief intervals and each time the wind was thrusting itself hard against the windows, amid a low-grade sound of thunder complete with interludes of flash lightning. At some point rain must have been involved, but when we got up this morning, the sun was back out in a clear sky and there was barely any indication of rain having fallen, but for a few sure-fire hints here and there on the floor of the deck and raindrops still evident on Ladies Mantle foliage in the backyard.

 

After puttering about the house, doing some pre-preparations for dinner, baking a half-dozen vanilla cupcakes and icing them, (thank heavens for those little counter-top ovens) putting on a chicken soup to simmer, we made our way over to the ravine. The short walk from our driveway up to the ravine entrance felt like walking through a blast furnace. Once in the shade of the forest canopy we could feel a freshening breeze mitigating the effect of the heat, with the sun no longer directly on us.

 

Our hike started off with Irving picking a handful of ripe raspberries. Little dogs don't forget those summertime treats. The berries have only just begun to ripen and there will be many more to come. Their sweet juiciness appeals to Jackie and Jillie as much as it does to our taste sensibilities. We took our time, ambling along the trails -- of necessity.

Despite that it was much more tolerable heatwise in the ravine than in our backyard or out on the street, it was still uncomfortably hot though, and our exertions made us, of course, feel the heat even more. We had decided to lengthen our circuit somewhat from yesterday's, and that too made a difference. Just as well when we finally emerged to make our way back down the street to our house, where the garden welcomed us.