It's November, and the woodlands look utterly bewitching in their bright colour array, about equal leaf mass remaining on the trees yet compared to what has fallen to the forest floor. A lovely bright morning that morphed into an ongoing series of light rain; first the sky a symphony of puffy white clouds competing with blue sky where the sun glanced down in bright surprise; soon afterward a sky resembling a gigantic aquarium poised to tip and spill its contents over the atmosphere. And it did.

But before it did, Jackie and Jillie had their romp in the ravine, and though it's hard to say whether they appreciate the splendour of autumn, human eyes just drink it all in. And take the occasional photograph to prove that they're not dreaming in technicolour.

The garden, drab and prepared for winter's onset.

Afterward though, came the working part of the outside day. Work indeed, but in a very real sense, pleasant in its own way. All the garden pots at the front of the house had to be emptied of their seasonal plants and stored away for the winter. Dracaenas as centrepieces in the larger pots are always dramatic, I tend to forget how large they get, dominating the pots and sending their hair-roots everywhere; difficult to dislodge at this time of year, becoming a struggle between me and the plant.

The colourful summer garden and blooming pots seen out the front door; the "before" photo.

The large numbers of varied hostas that we love so much in the garden and the lily fronds had to be cut back to be composted. The foliage that has fallen from the crab trees and the magnolias, the weeping mulberry and caragena also had to be raked up. And the mess made cleaning up the pots, emptying them of their burden of soil, into the garden beds, also had to be cleaned up. I've managed it all in increments, first the backyard, then the front of the house.

And today I mostly completed that time-consuming task.