After another night of fierce rainstorms, sunshine was in order for today. All that rain, good for growing things and sparing us the necessity to do much watering in the garden. The drenched outdoors soon was anything but. Not only did the warming sun, even on the cool day this turned out to be, quickly help the soil absorb all that rain, but there was a rip-roaring wind blasting through the atmosphere all day, and wind does many things, including drying everything out.

After breakfast I had gone out to the backyard with Jackie and Jillie to do a little bit of tidying up in the garden, but they didn't get past the deck. The wind was so strong it kept rattling the metal top of the canopy over the deck, and the sound alarmed them. I was so focused on what I wanted to do; tie up some of the clematis vines, trim the backyard Magnolia now that it has finished flowering, and do the same with the Purple Smoke tree, I hardly noticed the sound.

And the Irises, poor things were being shoved about mercilessly by the wind, toppling the flower heads on their stalks, so they too had to be staked and tied securely so we could enjoy their beauty a little longer rather than allow them to be destroyed by the raging wind. It was nothing but invigorating out there in the garden, puttering about. Truth is, the wind though it can be destructive to a garden, felt really good, brushing through my hair.

Truth is, whenever I'm in the garden doing anything, whether it's pulling out weeds or planting an annual, or dividing a perennial, it feels so good to be dabbling about in the soil, moist and fertile; planning, analyzing, admiring. There's a world of healing in gardening. The challenge that it presents is one gladly met, and I'm grateful I still can do all of that. There's simply no end of little tasks to be done, even in a garden on an urban city plot as small as ours.

By mid-afternoon we were ready to embark on our usual trek through the forest nearby, and off we set, Jackie and Jillie pulling us along to gain momentum, as usual. When we emerge from the house their first interest is to peer intently along the street to see whether anything or anyone is in motion. It's just as well at those times that they're on leash, since if someone happens to be walking another dog on the street the commotion our two raise is alarming.

As we descended the first long hill into the ravine we could hear little drifts of sound below that told us the usual passel of teen-age girls had installed themselves on their blanket on the buttress of the bridge to the right. Since school has been out, and under general closure there's been little enough for the girls to do to amuse themselves; bicycling from their homes in the community into the forest to meet up with one another and have a little picnic and talkfest keeps them happy. And we're happy to see their bright, beautiful faces as they huddle together with their iPhones and exchange gossip.

The wind really packed a brisk punch tearing through the forest, as we turned left, to access another trail and another bridge on our preferred route. And the gusts were even stronger, sending the canopy in a dancing wave of green, back and forth. The ruffling of the foliage sounded like ocean waves. But further up at the canopy level, the sound was more like a freight train coming through. Trunks of trees clacked against one another when the bursts struck. But again, as for our comfort, it was total. The high for the day was 22C, not too warm, not too cool.

For Jackie and Jillie our tramp through the woods presents an opportunity for them to catch up with canine neighbourhood gossip. Who's been where, and when. They sniff and snuffle at all the little promontories where other dogs before them have lingered and left their messages.

When our circuit through the forest trails was completed and we were heading for the last bridge which happened to be the one the girls had claimed as their own, Jackie and Jillie pick up pace again to hurry over to where they can look down on the girls, as though to offer their own greeting. We greet the girls and the girls return the greeting, their smiles as warm as the sun, their faces as beautiful as flowers.

And when we've returned home and Jackie and Jillie meander along with us through the garden pathway, there are other flowers to greet us and please us and to be admired. They do the former two, and we the latter. What a long way we've come even this early in the summer season, from that time in March when we were convinced there wouldn't be much of a garden this year, apart from the reliable old perennials. We had seen videos of tonnes of new garden plants being composted by growers because of border closures and the entire disruption of trade and deliveries.

Our pessimism gradually faded, along with the fearful trepidation we felt when the global pandemic was declared, and one country after another went into lockdown, amidst reports of ballooning cases of COVID-19, and even more horrible news of increasing deaths. Although the caution and residual fear were diminished to a degree it is always with us. But optimism too has crept in to lodge within our consciousness, and the sight of natural beauty surrounding us acts as a reminder that there is much to be grateful for, and nature one way or another does come to our rescue.
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