I meant yesterday to bake a flatbread to accompany the fish chowder I prepared for dinner last night, but just forgot all about it. Since the dough was waiting in the refrigerator to be used I decided early this morning to prepare it for breakfast as a foccacia bread, and ground up both fennel and rosemary to top it with, leaving it to rise before we left pre-breakfast for a tromp through the ravine with Jackie and Jillie on yet another hot morning. 

But planning for an afternoon turn through the forest trails, even in the shade of the forest canopy would be too hot in a humid 33C atmosphere, so off we went, Jackie and Jillie more than willing. They had enjoyed a bit of cheddar cheese in tiny cubes before we set off, so they were well fortified. Aside from which, as we enter the ravined forest Irving always picks a few blackberries and thimbleberries for them.

On one side of the trail leading down into the ravine is the soft-fruit-bearing shrubs, on the opposite side the ranks upon ranks of pilotweed and Himalayan orchid, as tall as we are grow, beyond which are more berry shrubs and small elderberry trees among the emerging poplars. Jackie and Jillie know the drill, waiting expectantly for the berries before we head down the hillside. At the top of which they gain a good view of one of the bridges fording the creek below.

And if anyone happens to be making their way up the trail or is crossing the bridge, or even at the opposite end of the bridge, though we can't see them from that height, our two little dogs can hear and smell them and see them before we do. And they become excited with anticipation and begin their incessant, irritating barking. Jackie will stop, but Jillie, despite being told to stop, never does.

They hardly miss their breakfast, since once we reach the heights again there's wild apple trees begging to be relieved of their ripening apples, and Irving is always happy to oblige. He offers one rosy specimen to me, but I don't particularly crave apples first thing in the morning; oranges or melons are more my style. But he shares out chunks of apple to Jackie and Jillie, just as he does the berries.

Then, when other dogs come around as they invariably do in that part of the ravine which bypasses the lower reaches, doggie treats are always on offer. So many dogs that pass through the ravine know him by now as the cookie man, and stop politely beside him until he pulls his bag of treats out of the pouch he carries, and begins the distribution. 

The white asters, the first to begin flowering beside the trails are now being joined by pale mauve/blue asters, more delicate and prettier than their white cousins. The last to bloom will be the larger, bright pink asters, but they won't be making an appearance for some time yet. 

Before we leave the ravine, we bypass the last bridge leading to the long uphill climb to street level, as we've been doing increasingly, to head on a narrow, overgrown pathway toward the forest meadow to enjoy the wildflowers growing rampant there. The grasses grow taller than we are, closing in on the pathway, along with pilotweed, Queen Anne's lace, daisies and fleabane and black-eyed Susans, which grow in even greater abundance at the meadow.

More berry-plucking ensues on the hillsides abutting the meadow, where the blackberry shrubbery is really dense and large, the canes leaning over heavily, toward the forest floor. Bees, hoverflies, wasps and cabbage butterflies flit in and out of the bright green vegetation, landing on the flowerheads in a busy environment of pollination-in-action.

From the meadow, there's a more elongated, seemingly shorter rise to the top of the hill leading out of the ravine onto the street we live on, and that's where we head for next, Jackie and Jillie as usual leading the way. Which brings us back once again to the Himalayan orchids and the elderberry trees with their ripening clusters of elderberries.

Then it's time for two little dogs to have their breakfast, for us to take our showers and prepare for our own breakfast. I fire up the countertop convection oven and the foccacia bread bakes while we're in the shower, so it's almost ready when we come down for breakfast. By the time we've cut the melon and apportioned it, adding a banana for each of us, pouring tea and coffee, the bread is baked and cooling on the counter.