It can be a real brain-teaser at times, mulling over in your mind the puzzle of why it is that people behave as they do so often. It  doesn't seem to make any good sense, but then people being people tend to complain about anything.

Yesterday during our hike on the forest trails in the ravine we came across a burly, personable young man (um, 40ish-yrs-young) whom we've known casually for quite a few years. He lives in a neighbourhood far beyond our own, and he accesses the ravine close to where he lives, but he prefers making his way the considerable distance over to where we tend to draw our hiking circuit and for obvious reasons; that the landscape is more varied and interesting and his hike is considerably extended.

He walks a friendly black Lab, whom Jackie and Jillie are familiar with, and they get on along well together, though they aren't quite pals. Truth is, because they're siblings and so accustomed to doing everything in a tandem arrangement, Jackie and Jillie have a vastly different 'friend' relationship with other dogs than they do with one another. It's as though cooperation between them is naturally spontaneous, but how to play with other dogs remains a mystery to them.

In any event, it's difficult to get from where our friend is located, to where we tend to make our way through the trails. And one day it had occurred to him to make a short-cut by building a bridge over one of the creek's channels that would allow him to more readily access that part of the ravine opposite his own. He guided us once many years ago to that bridge, though in previous years when we were  younger and more energetic we used often to go that way.

The later arrival of beavers, however, closed off the access we had once used and raised the level of the creek to make it difficult to cross. So he had hauled wood that he bought into the ravine at that point and built a small but serviceable bridge to ford the creek, a floating-type bridge that was quite innovative. Bad weather and a swollen creek had several times dislodged the bridge from its mooring, compelling him to drive metal stakes at several points either end of the bridge to secure it.

And then, one day it was suddenly gone. Well, not entirely; he found pieces of it lying about, and others floating in the creek, while the metal stakes were still in place. So he rebuilt the bridge, and again anchored it firmly. But the rebuilt bridge was taken apart in its turn. Then he discovered that it was municipal employees who had taken his bridge apart. There had been a complaint. Someone, one person, didn't think much of the idea of an unauthorized bridge, whatever its purpose and despite whom it convenienced. That's all it takes, one disgruntled individual to spoil someone else's initiative that is of value to others beside himself.

Yesterday he told us that he'd had no more problems with bridges, for he'd built another in a different, inaccessible place, making it too accessible, and had complained himself to the municipality of the absurdity of their response to the bridges, so they relented and no longer harass him for doing everyone a favour. He's up to other things now. He's the kind of person that if a neighbour is building a deck, he'll help that person.

Now, he and a few of his neighbours together bought a motorboat, 25 feet long, with a bit of a cabin, and they take turns using it on the Ottawa River. On occasion several of the neighbours will go out together, do some boating for an afternoon, dock in at a favourite spot close to a popular-with-boaters food-and-drink establishment and make a day of it.