Jackie and Jillie our two little companion dogs, can certainly be forgiven for their assumption and expectation that each of our forays into the wooded ravine comes complete with fresh apple treats plucked from the branches of the many wild apples in the forest, and on occasion carefully selected from among the many ripe apples that wind has brought down to the forest floor.

Since they've been offered small pieces of apple to enjoy as we stroll along the forest trails on a daily basis, it's little wonder they take it for granted that their daily walk includes those sweet, juicy treats. By now, all the apples that have been perched within reach have been spoken for, and it is only those apples that grow higher toward the crown of the trees on upper branches that still remain, ripe, red and tempting, but unreachable.

So this time my husband looked about in the scrub under a density of pines and poplars not far from several apple trees and came back with a hefty fallen branch well on its way to rot, and eyed a cluster of apples higher than he could reach, then figured out the most promising angle to toss the branch toward the limb carrying those apples, and let go.

It was an instantly rewarding result, both our eyes following a half-dozen ripe apples that tumbled nicely onto the forest floor, still in motion as we raced after them and reached down to pick them up. Three went into reserve in my husband's jacket pockets, and two were put to immediate use. They were rubbed to a shine with pocket tissues, then our puppies were rewarded for their anxious patience when they were proffered one bite's-worth after another until the flesh of two apples was exhausted, and we went on our merry way.

Nova, the large white German Shepherd, appeared as though out of nowhere, thundering across one of the wooden bridges spanning the creek, to greet us. He's known us since he was a small puppy and when he is aware of our presence at a time when he's out with Rod, he tends to absent himself briefly to say hello. And this time he also took advantage of our near proximity to the creek and took a dip, even though this was a cool, windy, albeit sunny day.

He could hear Rod calling him from somewhere distant where the sound of a human voice couldn't reach us, and soon disappeared. But in his place were other dogs roaming about, large and small, some in the near presence of their humans, and others not, all wanting to be noticed, made a fuss over and taking pleasure in a beautiful fall day along forest trails.

Each time we enter the ravine we can actually see the colour changes that have in fact taken place over a somewhat prolonged period, but the changes have so obviously to our eyes and appreciation truly accelerated in the last week. The trails and the forest floor have become steeped deeper in cast-off, bright foliage. And suddenly it has become obvious that some trees have lost such a substantial amount of leaves they're approaching the bare aspect we connect with winter.

None of these subtle and often obvious changes seem to evoke any notice in our little dogs. They're impacted by temperature and weather conditions, oblivious to signs that nature is bringing us, bit by bit, into another season altogether. One that they, like we, are accustomed to accepting since there is no other alternative. They've already been suited out in light sweaters when it's cool and windy, and heavier raincoats when rain threatens, so by the time snow flies they'll be ready for winter jackets and ice-protective little boots.