Years ago there were a number of cats that used to prowl about the area. Their owners would call them in before lights-out for the night and Jackie and Jillie seeing them around the house always took exception to their presence. Time passed and we just don't see them any more. When Jackie and Jillie go out to the backyard they often burst through the doors in a hurry to get down off the deck and into the garden. A drama unfolds but too quickly for me to really identify anything other than that some creature is being chased and our pups have been foiled and frustrated, as evidenced by their sniffing and pacing under the garden sheds. Where a resident rabbit or a chipmunk has slipped away from them.

 

 

They're not very hospitable to others, our two little dogs; territorial aggression is second nature to them. Last night around 11:00, we became very aware of the odour of skunk wafting through the open patio doors. We've got at least one that lives nearby, and obviously many more originating in the forest beyond our street. We catch the occasional glimpse of one, and they're beautiful little creatures. Best left alone, other than to occasionally put out food for any wild creatures in the harsh winter months.

 

Neither of us actually mind the odour of skunk. By the time we went up to bed it had become somewhat fainter. And we wondered what had upset it. A wandering cat came to mind, but then we don't see them any more frequently any more than we do the skunks, so that's a mystery. Mind, we wouldn't much want Jackie or Jillie to come across a skunk with their belligerent behaviour...

 

 

Another warm, but not intolerably hot day today. Heavily overcast all morning and into the early afternoon. As it was when we set out for our afternoon ramble in the ravine with Jackie and Jillie. We hadn't got much further than the entrance to the ravine when I could suddenly feel raindrops on my bare arms and I thought I was imagining it because it looked as though the sun was arriving. Irving had ventured into the bracken to pick some ripe berries for Jackie and Jillie, and by the time he emerged the sprinkling had stopped.

 

 

By the time we reached the crest of the ravine the forest had taken on a dusky appearance and again there was the occasional raindrop. At such a warm temperature, rain, unless accompanied by a heavy wind to cool down the atmosphere wouldn't be too uncomfortable for us, but it would be for our puppies; when they're wet to the core they're miserable and chilled.

 

 

We noticed that the first of the wild asters are preparing to bloom. The Himalayan orchid plants growing among the pilotweed, ragweed, thimbleberry shrubs and raspberry and blackberry canes and thistles on the forest floor are beginning their bloom season. The plant itself grows immensely tall -- about to my height -- yet its bright pink flowerheads are dainty in size.

 

 

The bee activity is impressive this year. We saw honeybees and a wasp-like creature, along with hoverflies in and among the vegetation, and in particular among the reams of ragweed growing high on the banks of the creek. And it was as we were about to cross the final bridge to approach the last hill to bring us to the level of the street above that rain began, light at first but soon picking up momentum.

 

By the time we reached the street it was fairly steady, but still relatively light. That changed as soon as we walked up our driveway toward the garage. A sudden wind pick-up drove the now-heavy rain in sheets across the landscape. Our garden thirstily drank it all in. And ten minutes later, the dark clouds moved off and the sun moved into the space formerly occupied by rainclouds.