We'd seen her a few times in the recent past, but aside from exchanging a pleasant greeting knew nothing about her other than that she was accompanied by a very large, part pointer, part Great Dane with a beautiful, dignified conformation, black with dark brown markings. This morning as we passed one another on the trail, we noticed the dog had one of its legs wrapped and asked what had happened. The young woman responded that something sharp in the creek had wounded the dog. The vet had recommended not bandaging the wound to allow it to heal, but the skin was torn and loosely folded over and she was fearful it might tear further, so she wrapped it.

Sensibly enough. One of her neighbours who is a surgeon, informed her that he found that advice puzzling and would himself, given the depth of the wound and its location, have advised to wrap it. So she did. And then she revealed other things about herself and her companion. The large beautiful dog was meant to be a 'guide dog'. Not in a strictly formal sense for it hadn't been trained as such. When she brought him home as a mature puppy she was told he would never exceed 40 pounds. Now, at a year and a half he's all of 90 pounds.

She did see that he had some training. He's very calm, and protective of her. The reason it was recommended to her that she acquire a guide dog was to help keep her safe. She had undergone a brain operation, the role of her companion was to sense any possible danger to her. And as far as she is concerned, he fulfills that role admirably, ensuring among other things that other dogs keep their distance from her, calmly and authoritatively. He was mildly interested in Jackie and Jillie but made no move to ensure they kept a distance so they got along just fine together. We've all made new friends.

Another warm day, with increasing humidity. We went directly out to the ravine this morning because of an afternoon rain forecast; a series of thunderstorms and other rain events. The cooling breeze that followed us through the ravine yesterday was absent today, but the build up to the heat of the day hadn't yet materialized, so we were more than comfortable.

Later, not long into early afternoon, rain did indeed materialize. Jackie and Jillie wandered disconsolately through the dark interior of the house. The exterior was little better with a dark, low cloud cover, One of those days.

And then we discovered that the Japanese beetles had returned. A horde of the pests was already well ensconced in the garden, obnoxiously settled on our roses and our gnarled old Corkscrew Hazel, for some reason a favourite of the little beasts. By the time they'll have finished feasting on the tree the state of its health will be in jeopardy. They're so numerous that efforts to destroy them simply fail. For some reason, the beetles do most of their damage in the backyard. We seldom find them in the gardens at the front of the house. Yet it's in the grass lawn at the front of the house, not the back, where they tend to lay their eggs, destroying the lawn.

Spraying them with an otherwise lethal concoction successful with other garden pests seems not to faze them at all; vinegar, salt, hot pepper, bring it on. Pheromone traps may gather a good number, but a greater aggregate assembles regardless. They stay a month or so, eating and copulating, laying their eggs in the ground so the eventually-emerging larvae can feed on grass roots and the cycle will perpetuate endlessly. We've tried sprinkling nematodes in wet grass (the beetle larvae love wet grass), but there are no positive results.

The garden happily responds to the rain, flowers lifting their perky little heads to receive the refreshing showers. Morning glory vines have been robustly developing, climbing the poles set in place for them, and having reached their limits, fastening around the strings looped up to the top of the fence. If all we have to worry about is garden pests and a ravaged lawn, and the damage done a prized tree, we're in pretty good shape, in this COVID world.