We were determined not to miss another day's walk in the forest, even if it was raining. Mind, there was an opportunity when the rain changed from hard-driving to softly-pattering, and that's when we decided to pull on rainjackets, including those heavier ones we have for Jackie and Jillie and we set off with them for the ravine.

It was cool, but not as cool as the day before when the unrelenting rain kept us from our usual ravine walk. And once under the canopy of the forest, we were semi-protected from the rain, aside from the drips that caught us as excess running off the saturated tree masts.

We thought we mightn't enjoy our forest walk in view of the incessant rain, but what we found was that we'd forgotten how different everything looks, and how appealing it is that the forest colours become so vibrant. And that the effect of the rain on the creek in the ravine is to raise a fine semi-opaque mist that lends an air of mystery to everything our eyes rested upon.

So we ambled along contentedly in the rain with foggy aspects beckoning us and mist rising beautifully, and it was more than comfortable. No complaints from our two little dogs, either; they trotted along unconcernedly, enjoying our outing as much as we did, though they balk at going out to the backyard when it's raining.

We found great, wide pools of rainwater everywhere on the forest floor. Including across the trails. The landscape took on the exotic look of a swampy jungle. Particularly with the bracken deep in water, and the landscape reflecting itself on the smooth mirror-surface of the gathered pools. Those pools not under the protection of the canopy took on another, dimpled aspect as rain splashed down into them and created minuscule concentric waves.

The wildflowers looked drenched, but not quite miserable. In fact, their colours too presented as sharp and vivacious, though the foliage itself was bedraggled with the weight of the rain. Still, to view glossy-wet and colourful clover, daisies, buttercups, bedding grass and cowvetch in close embrace, was a treat.

Another treat awaited us as we reached the end of our perambulation and we espied a very wet but obviously contented toad at the side of the trail. As a result of the extreme saturation, pine needles cushioning the little toad looked bright orange, and the small animal, tucked into the colour of the needles, hardly seemed noticeable, but when we did take note of him it was as a delightful little shiny jewel of a portrait.

While we were negotiating ourselves about on the trails, the rain would suddenly pick up, then die back again to drizzle, continuing to go from an inundation to a wet caress. Of course by the time we returned home, we were drenched - our rainjackets were that is, and our puppies' topknots, but otherwise we were all warm, snug and relatively dry.