I stuffed light little rainjackets into my own rainjacket pockets for Jackie and Jillie, just in case. We wore ours as we ventured out after a heavy thunderstorm that came roaring and tumbling out of the early afternoon sky yesterday, following a bright, sunny morning of clear blue skies. Nature up to her cavalier tricks again.

Although the sun shone on our backs as we headed up the street on a cool windy day, we failed to reach the ravine entrance before it was hidden once again under dark clouds. We'd decide once we were in the woods just how long a trail circuit we'd commit to, we had agreed. Although we gambled that there wouldn't be another thunderstorm, it was clear from the condition of the gathering clouds there would be more rain in some guise.

Once on the trails, it was hard to tell whether the large fat drops falling on us intermittently were occasioned by the wind loosening them from the drenched canopy above, or that the rain had started up again. But it was a pleasant day and Jackie and Jillie were happy enough snuffling about everywhere picking up those canine-critical messages telling them who had been by before them and likely when, as well.

At the sides of the trail blackberry bushes had begun to flower. It seems obvious from what we've seen thus far this spring that it will be a good year for wild berries for anyone interested in picking them in the ravine. The strawberry plants are blooming, as well as the raspberry plants. And although the thimbleberry shrubs haven't yet begun their bloom, they're maturing nicely and it won't take long for them to begin flowering.

When Jackie and Jillie topped the longest of the hills to ascend to the forest plateau they were beautifully framed on either side by wild apple trees and tall old dogwood growing the height of understory trees. The apple blossoms were a feature last week, but wind and rain made quick work of them and they've now begun the slow process of turning into fruit ready for plucking in late summer and through the fall months. The dogwood are in their glory now, with broad white panicles of flowerheads some of them resembling the blooms of hydrangeas.

Various types of ferns are now coming into their own on the forest floor. For the past several years we've noted in one particular area spectacular clumps of flowing, graceful, tall ostrich ferns, hard by sumacs and hawthorn trees.

From time to time light rain fell, but not enough to spur us to put on their little rainjackets for Jackie and Jillie, since the forest canopy was doing a very good job keeping us dry and the rain fell in light sprinkles. The rain, varnishing the landscape turns the verdant forest into a blaze of green shades, almost luminous, all the more so that there's a dusky atmosphere that prevails when a dark cloud hovers overhead.

Stand still for any length of time under these conditions, say to conduct a conversation with someone else on the trail and mosquitoes are encouraged by your presence as 'standing ducks', converging in hungry hordes to feast on your tender flesh. So though we came across scant few other people and their dogs, when the occasion did arise to briefly stop and converse, we were reminded just how nasty mosquitoes are, as we waved our arms in hopeless dispatch of the clouds that began surrounding us.

And then it was time to complete the circuit for the day to return home. By then the rain had stopped, so when we stepped out onto the street, leaving the forest confines, the sun was back, doing its best to begin drying the rain-slicked pavement on the street. All this rain and the sun that follows that we've been enjoying for weeks, has turned the garden into a wonderland. We wonder each time we wander out-of-doors what next will be coming up and blooming in the garden.

And yesterday it was the old Bridal Veil Spirea planted at the edge of the driveway many years ago, faithfully putting out its generous white clusters of tiny flowers to cascade from top to bottom of the energetic shrub that gets cut back ruthlessly afterward, because if it had its way it would occupy half of the driveway, along with that patch of the side garden that is its home.

I'd noted awhile ago that the most energetic of our clematis vines and the one incidentally that produces the largest, most beautiful of the clematis flowers, had set an unusual number of flower buds this spring. And was surprised when I looked over to where it produces its vertical abundance of colour and form, to see that they had already begun opening those distinctive decorative-blue flower heads alongside the tree peony with its huge blush-pink blossoms.