So we're in the drab, colourless month of November. Today, as it happens, is Friday the 13th, no less. And we've been mired in endless rain, morning, noon and night. We fall asleep to the rain pattering through the night, and wake to dark and gloomy mornings. When we set out for the ravine this morning, it was in a light drizzle and a twilight atmosphere. Same thing yesterday; we caught a break in between rain events, and when we returned from our circuit in the ravine, the downpour began anew.

So, gloom there may be, but that's also pretty good timing. And truth to tell, despite the rain and the metallic grey overcast, it's wonderful to be out. All the more so since yesterday was the first day I was able to get out for a ravine ramble in almost a week. Last Friday afternoon I twisted my foot on the penultimate step leading from the deck as I took our two little rascals out for a pee break. Things went downhill from there, literally.

But now I'm back in form again, my foot almost normal. When I've got wool socks on and my hiking boots it feels great. The woods are utterly soaked. And because of the high winds accompanying the rain a lot of detritus has fallen from above to the forest floor; old rotten twigs and branches that had been hung up on the canopy, that type of thing.

The creek is muddier than we can ever recall seeing it, though not as full as we might have expected it to be. We were all feeling in a pretty good mood. All of us equipped in rain gear, including Jack and Jill wearing their little raincoats as well. It doesn't actually look dismal with all the foliage gone from the deciduous trees. There is beauty in their bare aspect as well. The ravine has a nice mix of conifers, and they remain bright green. No more apples left on the apple trees, leaving Jack and Jill to scrub about in mild desperation to find decaying bits of apple.

No one else appears to have hazarded the ravine during the time we were out, given the forecast for heavier rain to follow the drizzle we'd set out in. And  how's that for luck, that the rain held off so kindly for us, until we returned to the house, satisfied that rain couldn't keep us away from enjoying a pleasant, albeit slippery-underfoot walk.