Few things leave us as restless and feeling slightly bereft as being locked out of our usual daily routine embarking for an hour's ramble in the woods. When the weather intrudes to the degree that it is made that difficult for us to engage in our relaxing and enjoyable venture onto forest trails we feel that the day simply isn't complete.

The fact that we have two little dogs who also need the exercise and the enjoyment value of trekking into our natural environment also prods us to venture out when conditions are just on the cusp of being difficult. They're small and not oblivious to weather conditions. Jillie hates getting wet, and will do just about anything to avoid a soaked landscape, including hiding, in the hopes that we'll forget about her. Jackie is far less particular, but inclined to becoming ill if exposed to prolonged cold, wet conditions.

When conditions are just on the cusp of tolerable, they wear raincoats just as we do when we decide to take the risk of weather not deteriorating for the period we're out. On Thursday we were all dressed and prepared to take advantage of what we thought was a quiet lull in the all-day rain, when we had to return home with great reluctance, just as the sky opened up again and inundated us.

Friday brought no improvement with the relentless rain. Until around five in the afternoon when I was putting the finishing touches on dinner. My husband urged me to agree to a spurt into the ravine. I scoffed, telling him it was too late in the day, and the sudden stop to the rain  might augur but a brief intermission that would start up again when we were halfway through the trails.

Amazingly, the sun broke through, and we decided we'd give it a try, got all geared up, left the house just as the sun poked back in behind the cloud cover. But we forged on, reached the forest ingress, and Jackie and Jillie ran ahead gleefully, over the saturated forest floor, avoiding puddles in graceful leaps as we followed them. Rain dripped from the trees, the creek at the bottom of the ravine was bubbling over in little rapids, spilling the water churning up clay from the bottom of the creek to produce a dark, muddy run-off of woody detritus.

The opportunity put a real spring in our steps. We hastened along, concerned that another  pouring bout would soak us, but were able to complete our circuit with no further rain events. We saw a few more trilliums in places where they don't normally come up, and ample evidence that lilies-of-the-valley too were breaking through the rich soil of the forest floor.

Later that evening a ferocious windstorm brought thunderstorms whooshing through the landscape. The sound and fury of the rain and the wind assailed our ears and made us feel even more comfortable and complacent as we relaxed after dinner, content that we'd at least been able to make a brief break for a walk through the forest while our dinner was baking in the oven.