We're into a heated spate of weather this week with one day after another registering 30, 31, 32 Celsius. No idea where the days of nice, brisk breezes have gone, there's barely a wisp of wind now through the forested ravine on these exceedingly hot days. 'Hot'[, I know, is relative. Where 30C is hot to us, it cannot be anywhere near as fiercely uncomfortable to those experiencing real heat now in parts of Europe, sweltering under a true heat wave.

Yet hot enough that we really feel it when we've exposed ourselves to the out-of-doors in a manner requiring a fair output of energy. True, the forest canopy manages to shield us from the heated glare of the sun, and there's an underlying coolness the deeper we delve into the ravine, but that is dispelled by afternoon when the day's heat has had the opportunity to build into an almost impenetrable shield of overheated air.

We've been taking Jackie and Jillie out to the forest trails lately just after breakfast, and noodling about in the ravine for an hour, hour-and-a-half daily. Today we decided we'd shower and have breakfast on our return from the ravine, to get out a little earlier yet. It wasn't bad at all, there was even a hint of a breeze. By the time we arrived back home, however, our internal furnace had been well lit and a shower was welcome.

Vegetation growth in the ravine has accelerated this spring, thanks to all the rain we've been inundated with. And now that we're in early summer, things haven't slowed down one bit. Fleabane is in bloom, so are daisies and buttercups, and even bedding grass, the latter's fragrance permeating the air with its sweet aroma.

We have never, ever, in previous years seen thimbleberry shrubs thriving as they are this year. The size of the foliage, let alone the height the shrubs have achieved is impressive. And the flowers, bright pink when they begin to open, achieving a lighter shade of pink once fully bloomed, are everywhere, heralding a bumper crop of berries later this summer.

For that matter, we've come across both wild strawberries fully ripened, and ground raspberries as well. If we pick them, Jackie and Jillie graciously offer to eat them to take them off our hands, as it were.

On our return from our week away in New Hampshire to explore the hiking trails there, when we first entered our own forest afterward, it felt as though the landscape was anxious to embrace us, wondering where we had been, and glad to see us back again. And we fully reciprocated the sentiment -- imaginary on the part of the forest, reality on our part -- ourselves and our little dogs.