Yes, we know our neighbouring wildlife need no assistance to secure a reliable food supply for themselves at this time of year. They should, of course, be left to their own foraging devices. Lest they become dependent when they should be independent. Sometimes you box yourself into situations and find yourself so deeply ensconced they become commitments in your mind.

Every night without fail a raccoon family, mama and five kits -- growing larger by the day, it seems -- come along to feast awhile. Obviously, the peanuts and crushed cookies put out on the porch doesn't represent their daily nutritive intake; they're a kind of top-off, a dessert as it were. Same for the single raccoons that present themselves. 

The squirrels on the other hand and the chipmunks -- it's hard to say. They all take their turns, black, grey, red, sometimes chase one another, sometimes share the porch stuffing their little faces with the most delicate of dainty nibbles. A pair of song sparrows have made the porch a daily call as well, and we value their wonderful trilling songs, just as we do those of the cardinal and the robins.

The most acutely aware of all are the crows. They're disturbed by the slightest movement and fly off quickly, whereas smaller birds are far less cautious. The high intelligence of crows perhaps a hint to their uber-awareness. But there's one crow we take to be a juvenile that has become accustomed to the lurking presence behind the glass front door of one or another of us, watching them and like the juvenile raccoon we're most familiar with, remains calm and relaxed about our near proximity.

Today's a brilliant weather day; cool, sunny, breezy, and we made the most of it. Irving cut the grass and transplanted a pot of marigolds that were faring surprisingly poorly, into the garden from a pot. After which we hauled Jackie and Jillie out to the ravine with us ... of course if you ask them it's the other way around; it's they who persuade us to take ourselves off to the ravine, in their wake.

The sky was so dazzlingly blue, the sun warm and caressing, playing a game with the wind. White, puffy clouds floated serenely above, some appearing close enough to us to reach up and touch, as a child might imagine possible. Just as well we're not in the habit of slack-jaw gaping at the landscape spectacles that confront us, both above and below.

Each time we approach the entrance to the forest we're taken aback anew at the spectacle of the wildflowers crowding one another in a melange of shapes and colours; primarily Himalayan orchids, Pilotweed, Thimbleberry flowers, Queen Anne's lace and Black-eyed Susans, all outdoing the other in a display of form, texture and beautiful colour. Bees and wasps, hover flies, butterflies and other little flying creatures adore them all.

At the ravine entrance Jackie and Jillie suddenly smelled, heard or saw something we hadn't yet, and went coursing madly onto the trail dipping into the ravine, ears wildly flapping. Soon we saw the occasion for the excitement, a woman and her son accompanied by a bull mastiff and a two-month-old puppy which the teen quickly swooped into his arms for protection against the mad antics of two little black poodles. And it was cookies all around.

But for initially seeing that group, it was a surprise to us that there were not more people out on such a divinely beautiful day. The trails, though not as drenched as they were yesterday as we wound through them in the rain, were still wet but not muddy. All the vegetation that had been lacquered brightly by yesterday's rain was now dry, and feeling the strength of the summer sun.

Jackie and Jillie had many distractions to take their attention as they poked their way here and there, with squirrels chasing one another and challenging our two puppies to a race they'll never win, though they never tire of trying. Jillie stubbornly runs alongside, without ever leaving the trail. Jackie is more inclined to enter the interior of the forest and leap acrobatically through the bracken of ferns and shrubs and packed ground cover in graceful leaps and bounds.

We sauntering along after them, appreciative of the environment, the glowing landscape, the atmosphere, the fragrance and the birdsong all of which seemed so wonderfully stage-managed by nature. But these forays all come to a halt eventually, and we made plans walking down the street back home, to run a few errands.

Returning a few films to the library because they were due for return, and if that isn't proof that things are slowly returning to normal, what is? Libraries were shut down for over a year; they're just gradually opening up and month following month releasing more services. That done, we drove the distance to Ritchie's Feed and Seed because the 50-lb. bag of shelled peanuts that Irving bought a month or so ago is now depleted.