In the forest the pines are raining needles every time the wind freshens. Dried foliage too, of course. And thank heavens there's a wind to begin with on the conclusion of two solid weeks of over-heated summer days. The summer that decided to skip us by this year changed its tardy mind and we've been sweltering in 30-C days on end. Amazingly, we've broken so many records, not only for such a late-season prolonged heat spell but also for the time that has elapsed in the past three weeks or so without rain at a season when rain normally falls.

But this spring, summer and fall have been nothing if not abnormal. Even in Toronto you have to go back before the turn of the 20th Century to find a day as hot as they suffered through yesterday alone. Southern Ontario has been affected with this large heat front that doesn't want to mosey on, and so has Eastern Ontario. And well before that the rains that refused to stop, setting yet another record rainfall season.

Everything is beginning to look parched, but come to think of it that's normal for fall. And the atmosphere, despite the heat and lack of rain isn't dry at all, it's humid. While most of the forest floor is dry as can be, there are areas where it's clear the ground remains damp; at least those areas are not at this point, steeped in rainwater hosting mosquito larvae. They have been fairly sparse of late and for that we're grateful.

On these really hot days we actually find respite from the closeness of the air, walking along in the forest, since the forest canopy offers ample cooling shade and whenever we're also exposed to breezes their cooling effect is quite wonderful. Because of the all-enveloping heat, though we've been taking along water for our two little Beelzebubs. They seldom want any, though. Vastly preferring their fall treats, when my husband daily plucks ripe red thimbleberries for them and brings down apples from the feral apple trees to share with them.

The sole sour note in our fall walks is the irritation factor to them and to us involved in removing countless burrs from their haircoats, and from the interstices of their footpads, along with sap that makes them sticky plus difficult to dislodge. Patience is exercised by them and by us and eventually the job is done, once we're back home again.