We were uncertain, yesterday whether we would decide to go out with our two little dogs for our regular afternoon ramble in the woods in the continuing, stiflingly-oppressive heat, which with the humidity levels taken into account had dragged us into 47C-degree territory. Soon after we came down for breakfast yesterday the outdoor thermometer already read 37.6C.

We decided, before the heat built up to even more impossible dimensions, to get out into the gardens, see what needed watering, tend to that, then attend to other chores in the house, before making up our minds. In deference to the warning post eye-surgery not to over-extend myself physically, I decided I'd do more of a surface cleaning in the house, and that took only several hours.

I bypassed dusting everything, since that's the most time-consuming part of cleaning, only dust-mopped a few of the downstairs floors, did the vacuuming as usual, then went directly to washing the laundry, powder room, breakfast room and kitchen floors. Not on my hands and knees as usual, but with the help of a long-handled floor-washing mop.

In between I tucked out into the garden to do a little but of garden work while my husband was out in the front garden, trimming some of the die-back on the yews and hemlocks from the burning spring sun. By the time we were finished with all of that, we were to consider whether or not to plunge into the ravine for a walk on the forest trails.

We went out on the deck and were immediately enclosed with the atmosphere of a heated sauna and looking skyward watched as the accelerated wind pushed and shoved a wide, dark mass of cloud toward us, with thunder ominously clapping beyond and daggers of lightning briefly illuminating an ever-darker atmosphere. Fascinating, sinister and beautiful at one and the same time. Jackie and Jillie barked furiously each time we heard the thunder approaching closer.

We lingered on the deck, making the most of the entertainment quotient in the approaching storm as the wind continued to become wilder and stronger, pushing about unanchored items on the deck with great clattering sounds that mystified our little dogs. And then the first drops of rain splotched on us as the dark thunderhead positioned itself directly overhead and the storm broke upon us.

We watched from the house interior as tropical-grade rain fell copiously all around, directed by the wind in great waves to skip over rooftops and drive directly toward windows, pounding and hissing. That force of nature is truly captivating, a fascinating show of irresistible power. Once it stopped we made no effort to go anywhere, went outside to began the work of correcting what the storm had misplaced. Like fastening back into place under its arbour one of our oldest climbing roses whose thick stem had fallen flat on the ground, but not broken.

Like commiserating with long foliage such as that of the canna and calla lilies, the Canterbury bells, and others that had collapsed, everything steeped in and heavily burdened with moisture. And the humidity seemed rather than having been relieved, to be even more oppressive, surprisingly. When the sun once again emerged, though everything appeared colourful, bright and happy, we were once again immersed in deep heat.