Fall is steadily approaching; not quite here yet, but knocking at the door. It's the last hurrah of the wildflowers; those most prominent the variety of asters, from tiny sprays of white asters, to larger somewhat less pretty mauve asters, to the larger yet and more elegant purple-pink asters, the queen of them all. Goldenrod too is still in evidence, and we catch the occasional sight of late-flowering fleabane and the presence of clumps of pussytoes.

Of course now that it's colder and wetter, fungi keep popping up and we keep our eye out for those that are variously shaped and coloured; more yet to come.

The presence of late-resurging mosquitoes has abated, and we're grateful for that. Our two little puppies are happy to come across other dogs on the woodland trails of the ravine running through our neighbourhood. One can see that the bracken on the forest floor is slowly beginning to withdraw; reacting to fewer daylight hours and the onset of night-time plunging temperatures.

We came across Gord yesterday walking his rescue Golden Lab, and three others that he often walks. He's turning those walks with neighbours' dogs into a living for himself. Fed up with the rigours and dangers inherent in roofing, a job he's done for most of his working life, he has decided now that his children are becoming independent, to do something he has long wanted to do.

He loves dogs and it's clear, witnessing him interact with dogs that they love him right back. He gave us a pretty snazzy copy of a flyer that he's distributing and posting in the area, advertising his availability to walk area dogs for people who haven't the time or the inclination. He's had some early responses, he told us, happily. And we certainly hope this new career works out for him. He's a tall, raw-boned man with a craggy face and a Yorkshire accent. We met him several winters ago when he moved to the neighbourhood.

We met him, of course, in the ravine and at that time he walked only one dog, his own. Now, he's habitually in charge of other peoples' companion dogs beside his own. To ensure that he's always in complete control, he never walks more than three dogs at a time, which is responsible of him.

During today's walk we came across a young couple whom we see on occasion. They walk four large dogs, which is to say the dogs are not on leash but free to wander wherever they want; a fifth dog is kept on leash because of its hard-to-control temper. Yet it's this group that a month or so back attacked a medium-sized dog innocently standing beside its owner. While the owner of the dog defended it, he had to call to the couple to call off their dogs. Which they did, then walked on with no word of apology.

We're always wary when we happen upon them, which isn't too often. We've never had a problem with them and hope never to have one.

Soon afterward we came across someone we've known for much longer, an older single mother whose grown children we occasionally see in the ravine, both of whom are a credit to her and to themselves. They always walk a calm-tempered and friendly large dog named Jasper; cream-coloured with splotches of pale brown. Jasper has a beautiful conformation and a lovely personality; he is muscular and large and looks like a cross between a Boxer and a Doberman. When our two are in his company we are completely relaxed.