More people are entering the ravine for surveys of the changing colours of the forest canopy. Yesterday proved an extraordinarily blustery day, so the wind drove quite a bit of foliage from their clasp of branches preparing for winter, creating that autumn phenomenon of colourful leaf-mass cradling the feet of people perambulating through the woodland trails.

Aside from being windy it was cold at 9C, the sun occasionally peeking through clouds a saving grace. These days when there are forays by people who don't ordinarily venture into the forest we're certain to come across people we have never before seen, to exchange passing courtesies and take not of the companion animals they bring with them, if any. It certainly enlivens Jackie and Jillie's day.

There is one couple in their 50s we see on occasion and have done for years. They live a considerable distance from our street, but their street too adjoins the ravine and they enter by one of the entry points that happens to be very close to their house. They don't seem to want to penetrate the forest itself, content to simply do a circuit of the forested plateau above the ravine. Pleasant enough, and certainly requiring no concerted effort.

We had come across them originally with their miniature schnauzer, Kira. Small for her breed, Kira was one of those sweetly emotional little dogs, always glad to see those she was familiar with, a tiny bundle of energy devoted to her tennis ball and she would 'chase' that ball downhill and up again. She has since been succeeded by another little schnauzer, also small for the breed, a male the couple named Tim-bit. Aren't people strange? It's not just the name they've foisted on the little creature, however.

Once, years ago, we had come across another couple who had two border collies, one of which always had a 20-foot rope attached to its collar. Both border collies were permitted to run about in the forest, but only the one with the rope did so regularly. I had asked them once whether they weren't concerned with the potential of the dog getting stuck somewhere if the rope wound about a stump or a tree, and they shrugged that they were more concerned about losing the dog. How the rope gave them any security about the dog's whereabouts when it wandered far and wide evaded logic.

That couple now has a single successor to the two previous border collies. An unfriendly specimen it is, but it isn't wearing a lengthy rope despite that it too is free to wander at will within the forest, always off-trail and mostly beyond sight of the couple walking it.

Tim-bit is now over a year old. He responds well to being called by name. He hasn't a penchant for wandering too far from his human companions, though he loves ripping through the underbrush and of course on occasion gets caught and needs to be 'rescued'. That rope entangles anyone that is near him, people or other dogs. The couple does nothing to disentangle the dog, feeling it's the responsibility of whoever happens to have the rope wrapped about their legs to do so for themselves.

When I asked why they persist on keeping that 20-foot-length rope on the little dog, they look bemused, hesitate, and do a mental shrug before answering that they've become used to doing it. Well, people's little quirks often defy understanding. Good thing there's always the psychological relief of our surroundings. And just as well they never themselves venture too deeply into the woods.