Complain as we tend to do over fall's cold, windy and wet weather, we also give full praise to nature and her seasons when there's a turn into delightfully sunny skies and then though it can also be cold and the wind continuing its bluster, the perspective is entirely different. The day becomes pleasant and intensely enjoyable, even though the plain fact is, I don't at all mind the wet weather, it has its moments.

We're about to re-enter days of overcast skies, but until we do, for the time being we've been gifted with clear skies and the lovely look of frothy white billowing clouds that may momentarily cover the sun, but only briefly. More than the warmth that bright sun conveys is the effect on us of the heavenly light it casts, cheerful and reassuring. Its effect on our moods is undeniable.

So when we set out for the ravine yesterday early afternoon, we were surprised as we emerged from the house at just how vehement the wind was, but we were so focused on how bright the landscape was, the sunlight picking up colours and glowing them back at us, that we felt no discomfort at the wind, attributing to it a hastening of our brief walk up the street to the ravine entrance.

Each time we enter the ravine and find ourselves in the forest interior it seems as though the increased heaps of fallen leaves leap out ever more eagerly at us, echoing the brilliance of the sun. Yellow is recognized as the most colour-visible attractant to human eyesight, and when we come across a vast area dedicated to the colour, from the foliage remaining on the shedding trees, to the forest floor which has welcomed those that have fallen, it's as though we've been immersed in an ocean of gold; our aesthetic is fully engaged.

Now that the leaves have been down for weeks as the surrounding deciduous trees shed them, the irresistible fragrance of dried leaves dredges up recall of past autumns. The same recall would assail us with pleasant feelings of recognition if we were simply visiting the odour, absent the landscape. The sharp fragrance of tannin speaks of fall, of colour, of drying foliage, of children's delight.

Not many out on the trails yesterday. Although they're drying, the trails were still mucky from the rain we'd had the day before. Saturday is a shopping day for most people, we surmise. And if people don't care for blustery wind, fearful of falling branches in a forest, that would deter them. We did meet up with a woman we've known for years walking her mild-tempered Golden-hound mix, a largish dog she had rescued years ago.

So as we swept through the forest trails talking with her, Jackie and Jillie in the company of Nero, tooted along the trails with occasional dips into the forest interior to investigate the plethora of fragrances that attracted them, and it's doubtful they philosophized over the nostalgia-value of fallen leaves.