Although at 32C that's hot enough, where our son lives in Vancouver the thermometer got no higher. The awful stories of some areas of the city hitting 40C conjured up stark visions of people dying from heatstroke. It's a vision, however, that became a reality for over a hundred people, most of whom were elderly, with underlying chronic health concerns. In a coastal city known for its moderate temperatures, only 40 percent of households have air conditioning. Not that that's any consolation. Our son still went out for a day of alpine hiking for fresh air and exercise; in the cool shade of the forest there is relief. He's busy as always and the heat is just another distraction. And he had his second dose of vaccine on Monday, so that's good news.

My sister and her husband have also had their second doses, as did our older son, in Toronto. Younger than me by four years, my sister's no longer able to do much of anything, not even accompany her husband to do the grocery shopping. Aside from the fact that she's legally blind, she has been suffering from a sciatic nerve inactivating her through constant pain. If it were not for 'talking books' sent to her regularly by the CNIB there would be little of value to her day-by-day existence. We're hoping things will improve for her.

Which makes me so grateful for everything that we have. There was a slight cooling-off this morning, and we tootled around the backyard with Jackie and Jillie a bit after breakfast. Just looking at everything that has grown so spectacularly this year. Surprising squirrels and birds along the back fence. Picking weeds. Emptying the bird bath for a fresh infusion. There was a light freshening wind, and it hadn't yet got hot though the sun was out.

When we went back into the house there was a sudden downpour, splashing heavily on the landscape. A surprise, even though the forecast was for rain events. We've had so much rain alternating with sun it's little wonder vegetation is robust and healthy. We had things to do in the house, and planned to go out to the ravine with Jackie and Jillie shortly. 

Irving went off to do a few errands. Today is the official 'opening' for Ontario; all hitherto closed enterprises allowed to re-open with some constraints. He went off to our local hardware store to pick up a few fluorescent light bars, several window blinds and some other hardware. And dropped by the nearest Farm Boy location for Feta cheese, wine, and bagels. Neither place had many people shopping there, though Irving said traffic on the roads was as dense as it would be on a late Friday afternoon of a long weekend. Everyone frantically heading somewhere. 

When we did get out with the puppies it was warm, but the wind had picked up considerably. There was some sun, but also plenty of clouds, some of them menacingly dark. I stuck sunglasses on my hair, we wore light clothing and thought, if it rains it's hot enough so we shouldn't much care. We planned on a shortened circuit because of the atmospheric uncertainty. But sure enough, once in the forest interior it became progressively darker. Irving offered the pups some treats to calm them.

Jackie and Jillie seemed somewhat disconcerted by the unaccustomed darkness, even though the forest interior is often dusky. Soon we heard a light patter informing us that rain had begun. We could see its pattern on the floorboards of the first bridge we crossed. When we attained the height of the main trail, the illusion that rain would be light and brief was soon shattered. The light rain turned to a deluge, thundering through the forest canopy, a fierce wind swaying the tree crowns.

We stopped briefly now and again under particularly large trees, but the canopy was already in a state of sodden excess from earlier rain, and it all came gushing down. Since it was still warm enough, we didn't mind all that much, but that was us, not Jackie and Jillie. They picked up pace, stopped to shake themselves now and again, and finally began to make a desperate dash for home through a route they know well. We had to recall them, put them on leash and calm them down, their discomfort more than evident.

Wave after unrelenting wave of warm, thick rain enveloped us. One wave would recede, the rain become a light patter, then minutes later, another wave erupted. By the time we reached street level, the ferocity of the rain abated considerably and became a moderate, steady rain. We were, of course, drenched, so the fact that we were walking in rain hardly impacted us, and there was no need to hurry along.

Once home, Jackie and Jillie quickly entered the garage and remained there patiently waiting while Irving and I did a little round of the front gardens. Everything immersed in rain, rain still pelting down, the colours of the garden gloriously vibrant.