The avian migration has begun; at night the sound of the warblers calling softly to one another, presumably helpfully guiding each other and maintaining the comfort of a group, while during the daytime, it's the honking call of Canada geese, the lead navigator sternly reminding those who fail to pack into their tight, elongated arrow due south that if they stray, they're on their own.

In the confines of the ravine, we're hearing the lunatic call of the Pileated woodpecker more frequently, and bluejays who are scarce in attendance throughout the summer months have temporarily returned, with their unmistakably high-pitched call. In the absence of rain with a spate of clear skies and sun to warm up what has turned out to be much cooler days and nights, the creek has begun to shrink again in width, its current considerably slowed.

Wherever stands of oak grow in the ravine, the trail and the forest floor below them has ample evidence that squirrels have been busy laying away foodstuffs for the coming winter. Acorns, whole and absent the nut, along with plenty of foliage, lie as though discarded, they haven't made the grade, it seems.

Because of the different position of the sun in the sky the light that penetrates the forest canopy is different, as well. All of which has stimulated the growth of fungi, some of it quite interesting in shape and colouration.

The presence of goldenrod and asters side by side make for a nice effect along the forest trails. The occasional sighting of late-flowering fleabane, long past its season, flaunting its perfect, tiny floral heads among the far more numerous asters, please the eye.

There are so many different types, sizes and colours of asters, from the sloppy flowerheads of the middling-sized white and pale mauve, to the generous-sized gorgeously-coloured purple-pink aristocracy of the aster family.

We've taken lately to ambling along, taking our time on the trails, walking side by side, and recalling times past and the pleasures we have always taken throughout our lives to fully enjoy life, integrating ourselves with nature, whenever opportunities present themselves.

For the present, it's a pleasure to watch our two puppy siblings Jack and Jill enjoy their ravine rambles, poking about here and there, becoming excited when they're aware of others approaching, making brief re-acquaintance with other dogs they've already been introduced to, or meeting new ones, enlarging on their experience with life.