First things first, in the knowledge that today would be yet another blisteringly-hot day. We placed our priorities in order, and hauled ourselves off to the ravine while the morning was young, to take advantage of the fact that the full heat of the day would not yet have accumulated and overnight cool temperatures would still prevail within the forest.

Jackie and Jillie had some cheese treats to tide them over until our return when they'd have breakfast and we would too, and off we went, with a water bottle for them as assurance that halfway through our trek they would not be disappointed in appreciating something cool and wet to revive them. As soon as we dipped into the ravine we could feel the difference in the ambient temperature, and had the bonus of a cooling breeze.

Other things we had in mind for the day could wait because envisioning ourselves having a whale of a time coursing through the ravine by the time the day's buildup of heat enveloped the forest trails in the afternoon hours wasn't terribly appealing. Not that we're the only ones struck with that thought. We're coming across other people these mornings who have found the same strategy amenable to their purpose when the temperatures soar to the 30s and beyond.

Slogging uphill about a third of the way through our hike we came across a smallish, very friendly Husky whom we didn't recognize until we saw the woman who eventually caught up with him while he entertained Jackie and Jillie. She was pushing one of those really robust strollers with three impressively tough wheels obviously designed for terrain such as we were in, though even these conveyances require muscular strength on ascents and descents.

We had last seen this young woman in early June. She was imminently expectant, and then went a week over her due date. Despite her very ripe pregnancy she didn't miss one day out on the forest trails and we would occasionally come across her. We went away for a week's holiday and on our return assumed, not seeing her again, that she had given birth and it would be some time before we'd see her again.

And then, there she was, happily pushing a stroller along, its cargo all of six weeks old, covered with a net and over that a sun screen. A perfect little baby girl who had been named Leonardia. A half-hour later we came across another infant. This one on four legs running about on its own and loving life, inviting Jackie and Jillie to play with him. At six months of age the little Rottweiler was considerably more muscular and certainly larger than Jackie and Jillie and bursting with enthusiasm.

So it was an interesting walk for many reasons, including that we came across as we were exiting the ravine, an older man who has taken it upon himself to maintain poo-pails at all the ravine entrances throughout the community. Once a week he ties up the garbage bag in the pails where hikers dutifully deposit their dogs' waste, and puts a clean one in its place for the coming week. He has no dog of his own, though he certainly likes dogs. His actions bespeak true altruism.

And then we were home. Where our appetite for breakfast after showering was well honed. A little bit of gardening, a bit of puttering around the house, hanging a painting, a much more complicated task than might be normal elsewhere given a curved staircase and the wall above accessed with the use of a ladder.

Jackie and Jillie still asked to be outside briefly on the deck where they could find a little sun to bake in, until they could no longer tolerate the heat, even with me working in the garden, the usual nip-and-tuck of tidying up vegetation that has gone berserk with heat and rain and sun.