There was Margaret at the front door, umbrella in one hand, bag in another, on her usual morning walk around the block, from her street one over, to ours in a twice-daily circuit that no rain event would deter her from. She'd come by yesterday, she murmured, at half-past ten, and although Jackie and Jillie responded, we hadn't, and we wondered how we could have missed the doorbell. She had with her another jar of the quince jam her husband Chris preserves, and a container of blueberries from those they had picked the day before.

I don't eat jam, but my husband enthused about the wonderful taste of the jar she had brought over a few weeks back, returning the now-empty jar to her, with gratitude. That previous time she had also brought for us fresh-picked strawberries. She is so frail, so gossamer thin, one wonders that she doesn't melt in the rain. Her gentle manner, her wide smile and good humour is infectious; in a sense a typical east-coast Canadian.

Soon afterward, the rain picked up again and we decided there was no point waiting for it to stop; (and just as well, since it never did) we would go out for our ravine walk. This time, since it was quite a bit cooler than yesterday, we put heavier raincoats on Jackie and Jillie and ourselves wore rainjackets when we set out. Once we were off the street and into the ravine confines the rain seemed much lighter, though incessant. And there was no reason, we felt, to cut our circuit short as we'd done the day before, less prepared when the rain suddenly came pelting down.

So we took our time, ambling along, and Jackie and Jillie, though they're loathe to venture out to the backyard whenever it's raining, since surprisingly for little water dogs they detest getting wet, seemed to be having an enjoyable time. Rain has the effect of enhancing odours and they found plenty of canine-intriguing smells that urgently required attention and interpretation to keep them busy. Although Jillie began our walk imitating the 'ministry of funny walks', in reaction to the drenched ground, Jackie was unfazed, and they soon loped along happily, rain or not.

While rain fell around us, the drenched canopy still offered us a certain amount of shelter from its presence. Down in the ravine in the woods, there is sufficient overhead coverage to minimize the level of rain and though our jackets were soon slick they kept us dry, and the same held true for Jackie and Jillie; their topknots soon became bedraggled with moisture, along with their legs but their bodies were kept snug and dry.

The creek, which had dried up considerably over the past several weeks while we were mired in a hot, dry spell, with no sign of rain in sight had been transformed into a micro-version of a raging torrent of muddy, detritus-filled waterway.

The visual difference in the ravine during a rain event is remarkable. Colours are strangely brighter and since green is the prevailing colour, its various shades reflecting conifers and deciduous trees, shrubs and bracken, all enhanced by the rain, shades of green become more obvious and interesting; a living luminescence animates the forest, while on the forest floor, under those areas where conifers predominate, the trails are littered with needles that become bright orange in the rain. The contrasting brightness of glowing green and luminous orange create a lovely landscape.