Soggy underfoot, the wind and rain that romped through the atmosphere the night before left the ravine so utterly drenched, it felt a little bouncy treading on the mass of foliage and pine needles that have so far been whipped off the trees in the forest. The morning had given us some sun, but it was fairly quickly eclipsed by the stubborn black clouds crowding the sky, refusing to dissipate. They were steadily and forcefully moving, however, because there was a tremendous wind, both in the upper atmosphere and down below, where we were.

On the street, walking to the ravine entrance, I was conscious of the warming day. As soon as I entered the ravine and accessed the forest trail dipping down into the ravine where the creekbed runs, I was acutely aware of the force of the wind and also that the warmth had not yet penetrated the ravine sanctuary. The wind, however, was shredding the peace of the day, it was hurling pine needles from above, down into my face, and when a needle struck just so, it stung. I had pine needles in my hair, in my clothing as they hurtled through the air. But then, the wind subsided somewhat and we accessed portions of the trail heavier in the presence of deciduous than conifers.

The forest floor and the trails are deeper in fallen leaf mass as each day proceeds. They're also extremely colourful, quite beautiful to behold. More colour can be seen on the ground than in the trees, in actual fact; little wonder since the turned foliage is torn with intent and speedily from their perch by prevailing wind and rain.

We saw few others out yesterday, in fact just one woman we've come across before, and her two-year-old mixed German Shepherd, so ecstatic to be in the ravine that she was exuberantly manic, ripping about and challenging Jackie and Jillie to a good run. A challenge they accepted with alacrity and the three of the two-year-old puppies performed a vision in feints and leaps, acrobatic and elegant as each attempted to outdo the other in speed and enthusiasm.