July of 2020 is concluding with the same kind of weather intensity the month has awarded us day after day; stifling humidity, overwhelming heat, ample rain events. We've been advised by Environment Canada's senior weather-forecaster that this month will represent a summer period with the hottest consecutive days on record. And that the period has also distinguished itself with a rain deficit. Some of this we can attest to, and part of it seems to belie our experience.

The 40% rain deficit David Philips, chief forecaster speaks of that has left fields and gardens dry has not been what we've been exposed to. We've had so many rain events, so many thunderstorms, overnight rainfalls, early morning rain, late afternoon rain -- and with more than ample sunshine in between - as to render the need to water garden pots and plots unnecessary.

On the other hand, we've also had day after day of stifling, humid heat. Which accounts for our routine-change of necessity; heading out to the ravine for our daily jaunts through forest trails with Jackie and Jillie pre-breakfast rather than waiting for time in the afternoon to devote to our forest rambles. And this morning was no different.

The backyard was still wet from overnight rain, but there was, for a change, no more forecasted for this day. We were presented with a crystalline-clear blue sky, light wind and beaming sun. Since we were out just at 8:00 trundling up the street to the ravine entrance, the sun, though bright and hot, didn't have the opportunity in that brief exposure to persuade us that we had chosen the right time of day.

As soon as the confines of the forest are entered, cool and dark, peace descends. Jackie and Jillie await their usual pre-hike treat and they won't be disappointed, as long as the bounty of thimbleberries ripening on their countless shrubs last. The berries are delicious, sweet and juicy; as good an energy source as any and better than most.

There are shrubs with their ripening fruit growing in many areas along the forest trails. And raspberries are still ripening as well, though there are now fewer of them. There wasn't much of a harvest of wild strawberries earlier in June; some things have thrived others have not. Certainly it's a bumper year for Pilotweed, their bright yellow flowerheads are everywhere, whereas there's a dearth of daisies, buttercups and Queen Anne's lace.

There's also more alfalfa, thistles and Himalayan orchids. And greater swathes of jewelweed alongside the banks of the creek than we've seen in any other year. Along with a complete absence of mullein, where last year and the year before there were so many. On the other hand, fast-growing little fruit-bearing trees like chokecherry and elderberry, as well as sumacs.

Later at home after breakfast I decided to bake a honeycake for dessert. I haven't baked honeycake in ages, and it's one of my husband's favourites; he chose it over chocolate cupcakes, though it took him a few minutes to consider which he'd prefer. I used a coffee grinder to grind up whole almonds and set aside a cup of the ground almonds to use in the cake. Most of it went into the batter, but I also dusted the cake pan with ground almonds in lieu of icing.