Just imagine how 'inconvenienced' we would be without adequate shelter. Humans in antiquity accommodated themselves to the weather with few other options but to endure it when things became atmospherically unpleasant. And then gradually learned to manipulate the landscape around them to provide shelter and comfort. And we live now in the ultimate of comfortable shelter. We don't deliberately expose ourselves to the out-of-doors when there's a deluge accompanying violent thunderstorms, not do we relish basking in the heat and humidity of a summer day when it's shade we're looking for.

Jackie and Jillie thought otherwise when we insisted it was time for them to get out into the backyard to relieve themselves before bedtime last night. Ordinarily of course, they're right on it, but last night, once again as has become a regular expectation, rain was pounding down fiercely, even saturating the deck under the canopy with wind tearing through the atmosphere. Even though Irving deposited Jillie under the deck to give her some shelter while she did her thing, she refused and he had to cart her back into the house for bedtime with a full bladder.

Jackie has a much higher threshold for such inconveniences and though heavy rain isn't his idea of joy, he'll tolerate it briefly to finish his business and spirit himself swiftly back into the house for a good rub-down. Just as well since he pees far more often than his sister does.

We're back into higher humidity and a warming situation, so we thought it best to get out for an early morning hike through the ravine trails today. And rarely do we see the trails and the forest interior quite as solidly drenched as we did this morning. No rain puddles on the other hand, the forest floor appears to have been able to absorb all the rain that came down last night, overnight and into the morning. The creek was running high and muddy, the trees dripping.

When we set out there was some sun but there were also large banks of dark clouds moving in. We expected that it would be likely we'd be caught in a rainstorm. But that didn't happen, and that was all to the good. Unlike an afternoon hike when few others can be seen, there were greater numbers of committed trail hikers out this morning. Anticipating that the chance for rain would increase as the day wore on, and that it would become even warmer and muggier.

We saw at least six other hikers, all of whom we've been long acquainted with, and some of whom called out for pause and the opportunity to chat about ravine matters. When we returned home we showered and had our breakfast of melon, banana, French toast and coffee/tea. And as the day wore on and we were busy with an assortment of little household chores we realized that the sky had completely cleared and the sun was out to stay.

That drew me and Jackie and Jillie out to the backyard for an inspection. The second and smaller of our magnolia trees in the backyard is putting out summer blooms. Both trees are covered with large, pink blooms in summer, but the one in the backyard always produces a second, smaller flush in mid-summer. All the rose shrubs are doing the same thing; their early June flush long over they're not concentrating on treating us to a smaller, more modest flush of roses.

Yesterday Irving had to do some work on a few of our garden pots that had become water-logged. They're supposed to be able to flush away excess water, but sometimes the hole at the pot's bottom becomes plugged and that results in the soil swimming in excess moisture and the plant going into distress with rotting roots. One of the pots had to be re-potted actually, its resident re-planted once new soil replaced the sodden stuff. Now they all look a lot happier.

Neither we nor the gardens have any reason for complaint. It's summer, and as the old song goes, 'the livin' is easy...' We don't mind the rain, it's essential to balance the environmental landscape, and we get more than ample sunshine as well. An unbeatable combination for all growing things, as evidenced by the hefty growth patterns we've seen this summer in our garden and in the forest.