The dynamics of nature don't change; heat rises, cold sinks. So much for modern architectural efficiency in dealing with indoor temperatures. In the summer when it's hot outside and we cool the interior of the house with air conditioning, heat still rises so that the second story of the house is much warmer than the ground and the sub-ground floor. Our basement level is beyond cool and comfortable, and the ground floor is tolerable.

In the winter, everything is reversed; the comfort of warmth can be found in the basement, while the ground floor is tolerably warm and the second story is chilling to the extent that it seems a window must be open, inviting the cold winter air to invade. Before we turn in for bedtime on summer evenings we open our bedroom window and the windows at the front of the house hoping that a nice cross-current of breezy air will cool down the day's accumulated heat.

Our bedroom felt  hot and stuffy last night, but not intolerable. A well-aimed floor fan helps. Jackie and Jillie, however, decided to wake us up an hour earlier than usual, at an unseemly 7:00 a.m. to which we didn't take too kindly, but resignedly. Another warm and muggy day heading for 32C. It was heavily overcast and looked as though a downpour might appear, given the humidity.

We collected ourselves and went out for an earlier-than-usual ravine walk through the forest trails. Not a bad idea, given the likelihood of sun appearing in the afternoon along with an overheated atmosphere when there might be considerably less pleasure in the enterprise. Certainly Jackie and Jillie don't mind the earlier approaches to the forest. So we wended our way through the trails, marvelling as usual at the luxuriance of the green matter surrounding us, hoping for a stray breeze to relieve the heat.

As it happens, at various junctures whether up on the high portions of the trails or down in the ravined areas we do come across pockets of cooler and alternately warmer air, irrespective of being in a hollow or up above on a lofty bank. We came across the first of the cinquefoil wildflowers to bloom this season, with their distinctively-shaped-and-hued petals as well as milkweed which have been making their presence on the forest floor the last few years. The milkweed beginning to mature, initiating the presence of their berries beloved of Monarch butterflies.

On our return after breakfast we prepared to go out again, this time to a little Ontario town about an hour's drive away. Perth holds an annual antique show and we've been going along there for the past number of years. Each time we do we admire the old stone buildings in the town, both commercial and domestic.

The drive itself is fairly speedy and we saw plenty of lupins, daisies, buttercups and hawkweed on our way. We used to pass a farm that raised bison, those great shaggy beasts that once roamed the Canadian prairies, but if it's still in operation, the farm now pastures the bison elsewhere than the field we used to see them in beside the highway.

The antique show used to take place in and around the grounds of the Perth branch of the Royal Canadian Legion, sitting beside the pretty Tay River, but the past few years the show has taken place not in the centre of town but further afield, in a more rural setting, the Civitan Club.

Jackie and Jillie are very patient with us. This wasn't a trip for them, though they accompanied us. It wasn't to a place where they would be free to run happily about leaping from place to place. Instead, they're each confined to a carry bag we loop over our shoulders.

The grounds weren't extensive and there weren't all that many dealers present -- though dealers tend to come from various other areas -- since it is, after all, a rural-based town of no more than perhaps six thousand residents. And though the day was hot, there was a good stiff breeze to cool things off.

Each of the vendors had the interior of a tent to themselves, one side completely open to the people strolling through. But for puppies carried about in canvas bags it can't have been too cool. They slurped cool water in abundance once we returned to the truck, to begin our drive back home, then settled down drowsily on the front seat of the trunk with us (which has been converted to a 'bench' seat from two bucket seats) for the drive back home.