We were kept from our daily hike in the forest yesterday by the all-day rain falling heavily on our landscape. And we've nothing to complain about. River levels were already high from winter snow-melt, a winter absent the usual January thaw that always relieves the snowpack of some of its height, but didn't occur this winter. Flooding was inevitable, the question only how bad would it be? Well, given the unusual amount of rainfall this spring, it's quite awful, the rivers overrunning their banks.

Which wouldn't be disastrous to so many people had they not sought to build preferentially close to rivers to enjoy their proximity and the exquisite pleasure of the view. Premium properties much sought after by water-lovers. But lots that become problematical at times like this. It makes good environmental sense to respect and acknowledge the utility of floodplains, to leave them 'undeveloped' so that can do what it best does; deal with its own excesses without human interference.

There is massive flooding now in parts of Ontario and Quebec. Montreal, Gatineau and Ottawa have called in the Army for assistance in shoring up dams, putting up sandbags to protect properties and mandatory evacuation orders have gone out to residents whose properties have been identified as vulnerable. So we've nothing, we who are protected from such inundation, to complain about if we miss a day of recreational hiking in the woods.

It's cold today, with a bitter wind, overcast and not the least bit attractive. But the heavy rains have come to a halt. And we decided in late morning to head out for a walk in the ravine, anticipating that the forest would be well inundated, and it was. Surprisingly, though, not to the extent we thought it might be; the forest has absorbed an enormous amount of moisture. And as it has there have been a few slumps on the banks overlooking the creek at the bottom of the ravine.

When we left the house it was raining lightly. All of us were dressed for rain. And it was just as well that we were also dressed snugly, given the prevailing cold and the icy wind. Once in the ravine, making our way through the forest trails, the rain was light and intermittent, mixed with snow flurries. That too is a little, although not entirely unusual, for this time of year.

We had noted several weeks ago that a lower trail that we have preferred, for years to bypass because I've always been suspicious that it would eventually collapse in a very narrow spot overlooking the creek (because it has, incrementally, over the decades) had indeed collapsed. Every day we could see in the distance the collapsed portion in a great semi-circle, growing in volume. Yesterday, under the extreme rain conditions it did so even more. And what greeted our eyes when we were out there was a criss-cross of yellow tape warning people of dangerous conditions.

Quite a way off in an opposite direction that yellow tape closed off one of the bridges, and the reason was not immediately clear; there were no nearby slumps there to threaten anyone's safety. It did leave Jackie and Jillie somewhat confused that a portion of their regular route was festooned with these yellow 'danger ahead' signals. Such signals have confronted us before in our many years of experience in the ravine with its Leda clay base vulnerable to moisture extremes, and we simply lifted the tapes and made our way through.

The rain lifted from time to time before starting up again, but didn't present an obstacle of any kind since it was light and we were prepared for it. So we decided to make our hike a lengthy circuit to more or less make up for our enforced absence of yesterday, and Jackie and Jillie agreed completely.