On these stunningly bright days of full sun and hot humidity the forest landscape becomes a study in contrasting light. Where the sun penetrates, from the leafy canopy above, to the forest floor, there is an evanescent quality to the light that almost burns the eyes, good enough reason for the use of sunglasses. Yet in those areas which remain in perpetual dusk in the forest interior there is a dark, gloomy cast in absence of light resembling night. A condition not without its own attraction, to be entirely fair.

Most days when we venture out into the overwhelming heat of the day, whether it's early morning or late afternoon or any hour in between we rarely see anyone else out and about with or without companion dogs, particularly of late. Granted, some people who normally spend leisure hours traipsing through the woods may have summer cottages which call out to them during these summer days. Others succumb to the thought that it is too hot and miserable to get out, despite that the interior of the forest trails offer relief as well as the delight of a landscape whose nature one can never become tired of enjoying.

There is always a breeze to cool things off, that manages to penetrate the thicket of trees. And for some mysterious reason there has been an almost total absence of mosquitoes in the forest for the past few weeks, and most certainly there are no complaints there. We've been noting a little more bird activity; two days ago we saw a flock of goldfinches flying about through the trees, along with the more common presence of chickadees and nuthatches, and yesterday it was a pair of cedar waxwings.

The thimbleberry bushes, while continuing to put out vibrant-pink new blooms are also nursing along the fruit that is emerging from earlier blooms, conspicuously plentiful this year like none other we can recall. The elderberry trees have been flaunting their lovely white flowers in preparation of proffering to any who care to take advantage, the edible berries they are destined to become.

And the Queen Anne's lace is finally beginning to open their large showy embroidered flowerheads, along with yarrow, much less frequent in presence, but at a swift glance, similar. Looking up into the sumacs it is clear that their 'staghorns' have reached maturity. In short order they've gone from their immature pale greenish-ivory to bright red, splashes of colour in an otherwise monopolistic green of the forest foliage.