One of those mornings when you just feel comfortable in bed and no real pressing reason exists to leap out at the day, particularly when you've cracked your eyelids open to a dismal grey atmosphere and you can hear the rain lapping at the window, the same rain you heard in the early morning hours, so you just turn over again and let your senses lull you into thinking it's too early to get up anyway. It works, as long as your puppy companions echo  your sentiments, but if they don't there's no point in telling yourself they'll be happy if you linger in bed any longer.

They're ready to start the day even if you're not quite there yet. Of course they have the right to change their minds when they're suddenly faced with the prospect of heading out to the backyard to do their duty and it's pouring cats and dogs and they have no wish to be part of that particular kind of fun. But out they go because you tell them too bad. And they relish the towel rub-down when they re-enter the dry warmth of the house, and breakfast preparations begin.

No scooting out before breakfast this morning. Since all bad things come to an end sooner or later and this morning it was sooner, on came raincoats and out everyone went, charging up the street and into the ravine before nature changed her mind again. Yes, the forest was dripping. But we had our raincoats on and felt confident enough not to head for a short circuit, Jackie and Jillie in full agreement.

Just a little more care than usual, given slippery conditions with an inundated forest floor not averse to little sliding tricks on descents and ascents. More red maple leafs down again. But the vast bulk of the forest leafmass is green as green can be. And it's really cold atmospherically, so it's just as well we were all wearing the heavier of our raincoats against the chill and the wet conditions.

Jackie became very interested in something moving on the forest floor, something he had no memory of coming across before, and his interest drew ours to the sight of a toad. Had it not moved it would never have been seen, they're masters of camouflage. It's been years since we've seen toads in the ravine and they were never present in any abundance to begin with. This has been a very wet summer and one of our acquaintances told us just days earlier that he'd already seen three toads; now it was our turn. Another creature whose habitat we briefly share.

Then we met up with another friend, with his three border collies and Jackie and Jillie had some company for a length of the trail we shared, we in conversation, and they in mutual curiosity about all the fascinating odours magnified by the soaked forest floor. Before long the five dogs were joined by another, curious about all the canine camaraderie, who'd jogged through the forest off another trail to see for himself what was going on.

Where most people would choose to avoid a heavily overcast, dim and rainy hike through a saturated forest, people with dog companions choose not to miss an opportunity to get out with them, all the more so when it appears that rain is destined to keep visiting throughout the course of the day and waiting for the skies to clear and then get out may in the final analysis become an unrewarded waiting game.

When we finally arrived back home to a cursory round of the garden, we found all its residents in good humour. The cooler temperature hasn't bothered any of them, while the rain did a fine job of varnishing the pinks and yellows and reds of the various flowering plants presenting us with a landscape quite at variance with that of the ravine, and equally in part, appreciated. 

The garden doesn't offer the opportunity to lope about trails, refreshing our communion with nature, and exercising our bodies while giving our minds the opportunity to go on pacific autopilot, but it does fill in our need for aesthetic refreshments in the beauty of its architecture, texture, fragrance and dazzling colours.