Now, even the holdout beech trees have joined the bulk of the deciduous trees in losing the richness of their leaf mass. The advent of almost a week of warm, sunny days culminated in yesterday's still-balmy temperatures leavened with copious rain. When the rain was over, in came the winds, with really emphatic bursts blowing what was left on the trees everywhere.

Just as well that the dangerously shattered and overhanging pine on one of the hills overlooking a trail had been taken down the morning before. One shudders at the possibility of a hazard such as it presented not being removed and coming down in the harsh winds just when someone might have been passing beneath the threat.

Now, the forest is truly bare of foliage; no longer will we be able to rely on the protective canopy to shield us from rain on drizzly days. Still, the colourful display is evident; if not on the trees then on the forest floor. Its yellow-predominating confetti appearance almost swallows the presence of tiny Taz, whose natural colouration, just like Riley's seems to disappear into the surrounding sea of shade-muted foliage on its way to becoming forest compost.

In the week following the first hard overnight frosts, just before the onset of Indian Summer, the apples remaining on the wild apple trees that proliferate in the wooded ravine, were icy-moist, sweet and tangy, the best apples we'd ever tasted. And Jackie and Jillie most certainly agree. They know when we're passing under the tree with the best of the apples, which my husband reaches to help detach their treats from.

Latterly, apples still clinging to the trees have become sparser, and it required a well-flung bit of detritus to dislodge one, not to disappoint our little devilish duo. But it's clear that the succeeding days' warmth have made the remaining apples mealy and unappealing. Yesterday marked the last of their ravine-walk treats of apple bits for our two little companions.