Just as we were exiting the ravine from our circuit there yesterday we came across Gord, with his black Lab rescue dog Molly, and two of the neighbours' dogs he regularly walks in the ravine, all good-natured, large dogs which our two little imps enjoy coming across. Gord had worked up a good sweat, literally. He was covered with perspiration, lifting his shirt front to wipe his forehead repeatedly as we talked, a heavy backpack strapped on as usual.

The dogs were excited and pleased to be where they were, clearly enough, roaming about happily in the woods, and Gord was pleased with himself and with everything about him, as well. He showed us an app on his cellphone that proved he had walked seven miles already from early morning to the time, mid-afternoon, when we came across him. He had decided to just keep on going, not to take a break, to haul the three dogs along on a really long circuit, crossing and re-crossing various pathways in his zeal to discover  how long he could manage to keep them and him busy on such a lovely day.

I recalled back when we did our own six-hour stints, but at that time we would be climbing mountains in New Hampshire, to summit briefly and return; a rough estimation of three and a half to four hours on the ascent, and perhaps a third less time on the descent. Hugely satisfying and no end of pleasure, despite the energy it took. It would never have occurred to us to cross and recross pathways in an urban forest as he had done, and wouldn't now, but to each his own.

We take huge pleasure in handily accessing the wooded ravine so close to our house, and spending an hour to an hour and a half there, daily. Some of the trail regulars come out two and three times daily with their dogs. but none of them are skirting 80, like us.

A more congenial occupation cannot be imagined. The landscape familiar yet always in flux, with little changes here and there that, when noticed, are fascinating. On today's circuit, for example, we realized that the huge old limb that had hung from one of the largest of the willow trees in one of the ravine's valleys had finally detached itself. It had hung high up on the tree since 1998, and finally, it seems, Saturday's high winds and copious rain had served to bring it down.