Searing heat from a molten sun combined with high humidity have made for some fairly oppressive July days this summer. In efforts to evade as much exposure to the heat as possible, our routine has been altered to a more reasonable time of day before the real heat of the day set in. For the time being now, however, things have changed.

Previously there was heat and humidity day after unrelenting day, with little rain to freshen the air and soothe the overheated forest. We had noticed that vegetation that usually crowds the forest floor had gradually subsided, leaving fairly large tracts devoid of green as the dry earth swallowed up the water-famished plants comprising the bulk of the bracken. For the most part the ferns remained unaffected other than that they weren't growing, just holding their own.

And then came the rain. It entered the picture and things changed markedly. It hasn't yet left, after days of day-and-night presence, nor does the rain show signs that it means to depart any time soon. Days suffused with unending rain events punctuated by violent thunderstorms. By no means stopping us for the most part, from continuing our daily ravine hikes in the forest. We simply awaited opportunities to get out, then made the most of them.

A backpack come in handy for conveying raingear, for example. Raincoats would be of little use in the midst of a  really violent thunderstorm where the rain tumbles in high speed from the sky, the wind lashing it horizontally to penetrate everywhere. But we haven't yet been caught out in that kind of rain, just the on-and-off variety where both the forest canopy and rainjackets ensure we don't get drenched. We've been able to make it back home from an hour's walk in the woods before the really emphatic thunder. lightning and rain devastates the landscape.

Or, rather, while inundating the landscape, leaving the forest floor awash in large pools, also nourishing all that grows. It's true that the wildflowers and shrubs look drenched, forlorn and smashed down, but they'll recover and be far more robust. There are, on the other hand, plants that have thrived in the heat and lack of rain for we've never seen mullein so large and tall, or their thistle counterparts. And then there is always the potential with high winds and lashing rain for some damage in the forest, like trees that topple, are caught by the limbs of other nearby trees and remain suspended, horizontal where they should be perpendicular as in thriving life.

In any event, the drama of the weather and how it affects the forest and by extension our walks through the forest trails with our two little dogs, continues apace. The breaks in the rain that we look for are anticipated by others as well who take brief and useful opportunities of a lull to get out and enjoy the woods with their own companion dogs.