Finally, the bursts of relentless rain  have stopped, and we've now enjoyed two full days of milder temperatures and sun. The magnolia trees in our gardens, front and back, have been encouraged by the presence of the sun to burst open their buds and display the full glory of their hot-pink petals covering the trees, hundreds of them, most fully appreciated.

With yesterday's stiff wind and the sun beaming down on the landscape, the ponds of stormwater that drenched the forest will now finally dry up. But they're taking their time and that will mean we can anticipate an early presence of mosquitoes, and lots of them. In fact, during our woodland ramble this morning there was ample evidence of their nuisance presence.

On a more felicitous note, today we saw the first of the Jack-in-the-Pulpits emerging from the saturated soil, and others won't be far behind. Their characteristic shape is what drew our attention, tiny as they yet are, and on close scrutiny the undeveloped hood can just be made out. For the first of these wonderful spring flowers, a few days' time will reveal the entire plant. The rest, scattered throughout the forest, will make their presence eventually, but now that we've seen the first few we're assured of seeing many more.

To add to the excitement, the first flowering of a baneberry shrub(let) drew our attention. They appear to have suddenly appeared out of the soil, just like the Jacks. The white, fluffy compound flower will eventually produce a cluster of bright red, shiny berries in late summer, early fall. The small clusters are so piercingly bright they present as a jolt of colour in an otherwise-verdant landscape. They're not meant to be eaten, unlike the thimbleberries and raspberries that also proliferate in the ravine, since the baneberry is, as its name suggests, deadly.

The spring woodland violets, yellow and mauve, are now in full evidence, with spreading clumps here and there populating the forest floor. Among them now are the strawberry plants shooting out of the soil, some of which have begun to flower, those bright and beautiful little white flowers that will become deliciously sweet strawberries by the end of June.

We've also seen the first of the wild ginger clumps beginning to emerge. Not yet taking on their full size and shape, but presentable all the same. It's the rare occasion when we hit it just right in mid-June, peering under the foliage close to the stem of the plant, to see the small, fleshy, dark red flower in boom, so shy it hides from notice.

None of the Lilies-of-the-Valley have yet bloomed, though their lovely, glossy foliage clusters everywhere around the base of the forest trees. It shouldn't be much longer before they begin to dangle their delicate little bells.

That's the thing about our forest walks; we can never be sure what we'll see. There are always surprises to delight us. This morning, on the very last portion of our circuit, Jackie was alerted to the presence of what was to him something unusual; a bird, rustling about on the forest floor. His attention to the bird's presence in turn alerted us, and we saw a small blackbird, its plumage of iridescent blue on the top of its head and its sides brilliantly illuminated in the sun, as it scrabbled  about foraging for insects, indifferent to our relatively close presence.