Today's a real scorcher of a summer day. So we decided we'd hie ourselves over to the ravine earlier than usual, in hopes of beating the heat. Hardly so, since it was already registering 30-C under a cloud-free sky when we set out.

Additionally, the weather forecast was for the chance of thunderstorms in the afternoon and on into the evening. And since we had dental appointments for teeth-cleaning in the early afternoon, we thought it best all around to get our daily forest walk in.

We came across a patch of mushrooms that had suddenly appeared yesterday, but today the original mushrooms had already aged, and among them a new crop was thrusting forth out of the forest floor, not wasting any time. No doubt the heat and humidity has something to do with that. Shelf fungi are certainly not affected in this way.

The same heat and humidity have, without a doubt, hastened the ripening of the wild apples in the ravine. They've taken on heft and colour.

We were surprised to come across a middle-aged woman with a dog we knew well, but would never have associated with anyone but the man who always walks the tiny Chihuahua. We'd met that little mite, Taz, for the first time years ago being walked by our friend Henry's son, but never seen him with a woman. We'd wondered why we hadn't seen Henry in quite a long while, although we only got to see him intermittently. This was his wife, and she obviously knew who we were, though we'd never before met.

True enough, Henry's health had deteriorated; he was diagnosed a short while ago with a degenerative condition affecting his back. All the time we've known him Henry walked with the aid of a cane and he never hesitated, even with that cane and the physical pain we knew he was suffering, to ascend steep hills in the ravine. Now, his wife told us, he's in a wheelchair. As long as we've known him he's left us with the impression that he was a cheerful man. His wife told us they're still planning a trip to China in the fall, and before that several weeks in California where her older brother lives.

We stood talking for quite a while, and then a couple of women came by and it became a scene of pandemonium. Taz is hostile to the presence of people he doesn't know, tiny as he is. He is also not friendly to other dogs. Because he knows us and our two dogs, however, he tolerates our presence in his near vicinity. Taz, sweet little thing t hat he is, is a rescue dog. Someone had originally had him and abandoned him. Henry had adopted him from the Gatineau Humane Society.

Along with the two women came a black Labrador and a smaller Lab mix, and a newly-adopted Golden Retriever puppy. And thus were we introduced to lovable little Harvey.

Jackie and Jillie were interested and behaved well -- for them -- but Taz was beside himself with outrage over the presence of the five newcomers. He did his usual parry-and-thrust, growling and barking furiously, running after and even leaping toward and onto the puppy who hardly knew how to react. The puppy was a small bundle of fluff, happy, already attached to the woman to whom he will become a companion, and innocently interested in everything and everyone.

The two larger dogs were above the fray. They preferred to approach us for a brief conversation and patting, before ambling off. Jackie and Jillie and Taz engaged in a sniff-fest with the three, but Taz was hardly mollified because he took a dislike to the two women. A tiny Chihuahua-misogynist, go figure!

My husband loves to chat and he chatted up the two younger women, while Henry's wife and I discussed Henry.

The two younger women now have been introduced to the novel idea of going a little further out of Ottawa, for a one-hour drive to Ogdensburg, New York, to the Country Veterinarian there whose clientele must be comprised of as many Canadians as Americans because they use technologically advanced surgical equipment, are agreeably friendly and professional, and charge one-fifth the fees for services as their Canadian veterinarian colleagues.

As we eventually continued on with our walk, we came across the first of the fall Asters to bloom. Imagine, the second day of August and already fall Asters are blooming. Oh, and Goldenrod as well. Nice to see them, not so wonderful to think of summer waning. It isn't, actually, not yet. It's just that this hugely unusual weather we've had this spring and summer has hastened everything.