The blazing wildfires in northern Ontario, in Manitoba, Saskatchewan and British Columbia, as well as those burning relentlessly out of firefighting control in the United States are certainly having an effect on our upper atmosphere as the smoke from the fires filter ever  upwards. Two nights ago the moon appeared large and bright orangey-red. Last night it was the setting sun that posed as a giant red orb in the sky. We took photographs from one of our upstairs windows, with three different cameras, but invariably the stunning blazing red our eyes saw was transcribed by each of the cameras as hot-white, sometimes with a red penumbra, in other photos with a striking lightning-like dagger of red, and others simply a blazing white star.

And then, hours later, the rain started up again accompanying thunder and lightning. The forecast for today was for cooler temperatures, but rain, lots of it, and the forecast was right on. When we awoke we decided we'd take Jackie and Jillie out for a hike through the ravine, despite the rain. Because it was only 17C, we  wore rainjackets and so did they. The sky was streaked with grey and black clouds and we felt that the rain would increase during the day from the light patter that came down as we left the house.

We stopped briefly beside the raspberry canes before entering the forest interior to pluck a few raspberries for Jackie and Jillie. A reward, as it were, for being so accommodating. They don't mind wearing rainjackets and they're indispensable in such weather, keeping their bodies snug, warm and dry; little dogs tend to become cold fairly quickly if they become soaked.

On the way we stopped to admire the glittery-pink shine of the Himalayan orchids, more of them blooming with each passing day. Pearls of rain gathered on the petals and slowly dropped, gathering more as soon as the petals dropped their gleaming jewelled burden. In short order we were deep in the forest, and saw that the mushrooms that had irrupted yesterday morning at the base of what is left of an old tree stump had fully matured through the course of the day, responding to the rain saturating the soil and the air.

Soon enough the rain picked up its sound and volume. One might think the forest canopy had reached its point of no return as far as the amount of rainwater it could harbour, but evidently not; it continued to shelter us from the heavy rainfall, but we were wearing rainjackets too, and were comfortable with the relatively sparse rain that reached us. 

The thought of hiking through a rain-soaked forest even while the rain is steadily falling may not be too appealing and for the most part we prefer to trek through the forest on dry days, but there have been so many rain events this summer, it was inevitable that we'd be touring the forest in rain on occasion. And this occasion was one of considered choice.

The truth is, a different kind of pleasure awaits us on such days, given that we prepared for the rain. Seeing the landscape through the lens of a rainfall is quite different; there are no beams of sunlight coursing through the trees casting light and shadow, colours are much deeper with a strange bright element seen only when the forest interior is deep in dusk as it is when the sky is heavily overcast and rain falls. It is pleasurable and beautiful to stride along at leisure taking in the landscape, one that changes with the weather and the season, and never fails to comfort and surprise and pleasure.