The sun has decided to greet fall, banishing the gloom of a succession of overcast, windy days gifting us instead a number of full-sun days to perk the garden back up and everyone's spirits as well. The wind that seemed so harsh a few days ago is now a balmy breeze. No need for gloves and heavy jackets as we tramp through the forest trails, though light jackets under the shaded canopy of the forest in 12C, remains a prudent choice.

Thank heavens it's Monday, given the number of people out on the weekend. For a while we had the entire trail system to ourselves this afternoon.  We eventually met up with two of our friends walking their three exquisitely-mannered border collies. It's always good to see old friends and this time was no exception. Barry was still wearing shorts, and Sheila had bare arms and they didn't seem uncomfortable at all.

What was different was that Barry was carrying a thick stick like a cudgel, and they soon informed us that the stick was intended to be a cudgel. Explaining that it was for the protection of their little herding dogs and perhaps even for themselves. Evidently, lately they've come across a large muscular man who walks a large shepherd-something-else cross and the dog has taken a dislike to Carter, one of the Border Collies. All three of the Border Collies are from the same litter; they've grown up together, and Barry and Sheila spent an inordinate amount of time training their dogs.

They don't think much of large-dog owners who don't bother restraining dogs that tend to be hostile to other dogs and even people. Unprovoked, every time they happen to cross one another on the forest trails the large dog attacks Carter. When Barry asks the man to restrain his dog, he laughs and responds, they're just doing what dogs do. Words were exchanged, and soon Barry and Sheila were being verbally abused and threatened with physical violence.

Barry intends, next time they come across the man and dog, to use that cudgel to keep the dog away from Carter. This, from a pair of dog lovers. He also now carries with him dog spray. He's familiar with this since his career was with the special investigation branch and rapid response team of the OPP. And should the fellow that has been threatening them try to carry out such a threat he'll no doubt find Barry quite capable of restraining him. It does leave a bad taste, that setting out for a relaxing trek through woodland trails as you've done for many years, such an unfortunate encounter could occur.

They've described the fellow to us and the dog accompanying him and we hope we won't end up having any altercations with him. We did come across two older women negotiating the trails, one trail in particular that we find it best to avoid, and pointed out a nearby alternative to the women who were glad to abandon the one we avoid since descending it they were clinging to trees for support. These two were taken by the presence of Jackie and Jillie and as happens on occasion, we were left speaking with them for a while, as they regaled us with stories of their adventures with their own now-gone poodles.

Making our way through the trails there are areas where it's best to take care where you place your boots for traction. The squirrels are facing difficulties in collecting the plentiful cones that have fallen in this bumper year. The cones are littering the forest floor in great abundance. We had noticed they were all spruce cones, not a pine cone to be seen had yet fallen. Until yesterday and today that is. From time to time we hear a clunk as an object falls from above, and it has become clear that the pines are now letting go of their season's crop of pine cones. There'll be no shortage this year for the forest wildlife.

A few bits of Yarrow are still left blooming. Nothing at all left of the Queen Anne's Lace. But this is Fall Aster season, and they're blooming with gay abandon. Oh yes, Pilotweed is also in evidence, but they've been around most of the summer and we scarcely notice them any more.

Maple seedling

We do notice, however, that maples are beginning to turn crimson in preparation for a parting with their leaves in a month or so. Already gusts of wind are starting to bring down faded yellow poplar foliage. The great transformation has begin. The tiniest of Maple seedlings echo the appearance of mature trees. Those minuscule seedlings with a long life ahead of them have turned bright red in preparation for a rest from their growing endeavours, ready to take part in the long sleep of winter, to return in spring and begin growing by veritable leaps and bounds.