Monday, November 9, 2020


Another busy day. These days of Indian Summer have been a much-appreciated gift from nature. Our Western provinces are battling through heavy winter snow storms; last week they enjoyed weather similar to what we're now basking in. The takeaway is that we might want to batten down the hatches as soon as this gorgeously balmy week is done with. In the meantime, the idea is to take full advantage of this temporary return to summer, and we're doing our best.

My husband took apart the furniture on the deck for storage in the larger of our two sheds in the garden. Everything looks bare  and ship-shape, ready for winter's inevitable onslaught. The garden pots have been assembled and covered with tarps. The garden beds and borders have all seen the perennials snipped back, annuals composted.


We spent a little time in the backyard with Jackie and Jillie, so they could soak up a little sun. They adore the sun, especially Jillie, but rarely want to be outside on their own. If we're not there with them they're decidedly uncomfortable. Truth is, they're really house dogs. Just as we enjoy the comfort of our home, so do they, for it's their home too after all. If we're sitting out on the deck relaxing, reading, they're still not happy; they'd rather have us go indoors and sit around there with them.


On the other hand, they're perfectly at home in the ravine on forest trails. Their day isn't complete without a romp through the forest. Somewhat like us, all things considered. We went out a little late with them this afternoon. Yesterday the forest trails teemed with people. Today there were far fewer people, and most of them neighbours and acquaintances.

Some of whom haven't been in there for months and even years. Several whom we came upon were startled to see a large old giant of a spruce had split; one leader had detached from the main trunk and the one that was left was slowly deteriorating. That had happened several years back, but they were under the impression that it had just occurred.


Someone has put up signs warning of coyotes in the area. Most people who go regularly into the ravine are very well aware of the presence of coyotes. They've been quiet in the summer months, but now that cold weather is approaching they'll become more visible again. One hiking acquaintance whose backyard is contiguous with the ravine told us she heard them howling last night.

Another friend informed us yesterday when we came across him in the midst of the trails resembling a super-highway, that the city parks department had placed the ravine location online on a list of municipally-maintained, accessible 'walking trails'. So that explains quite a bit. For example, why it is that so many cars were parked on the street yesterday. Another friend we met up with yesterday said her street too was packed with parked cars.


Because we were out so late, after four o'clock, we could see dusk encroaching even though the sun still shone through the newly-bare forest canopy. Looking out over the rim of the ravine toward the other side of the forest reaching into another community nearby the darkened silhouette of the forest was ornamented by bright light pouring through from the setting sun.


When we finally wound up our circuit for the day to ascend the last hill  taking us out of the ravine to access street level, we could see the entire rim of the sky in all directions boasting pastel pink clouds as the sun set. This was as perfect a fall day as can be imagined. Today's temperature soared up to 21C, with light breezes and an ocean of blue -- with the sun sailing blissfully in its new arc across the sky. 

For the next few days similar weather will prevail before the departure of this anomalous weather system, plunging us back into seasonal temperatures, robust winds and ever-increasing chance of snow. And so, winter will begin.  



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