On our way up the street, approaching the entry point to the ravine, there was one of our neighbours who in fact lives directly abutting the ravine. She was out with another of our neighbours' little dog, a miniature long-haired Dachsund, preparing to take it for a hike through the forest trails. She left her own little part Yorkie at home, feeling he's too elderly now at 15 to meander the trails for an hour and more. He likely isn't, we took our miniature poodle Button out every day to the ravine when she had passed her 19th birthday.

When we were young I used to consider myself an extrovert and Irving an introvert. That has completely changed. Now I think of him as an extrovert in his ease with other people and his ability to speak effortlessly with them and adjust to their presence. I realize now that I'm really more of an introvert in that though I like people, I prefer to engage in brief pleasantries and then move on. 

Janet asked if she and Munchkin could accompany us on our circuit with Jackie and Jillie through the ravine trails this afternoon. We've known one another for almost 25 years, and of course I said certainly, why not, as I would with anyone who asked a similar request. We do on the rare occasion go through the ravine with others of our acquaintances, but I tend to feel less relaxed, more constrained, and would prefer to be able to observe what passes before us -- or we pass through -- in the landscape, communicating just with Irving who thinks and feels exactly as I do. Other than the fact that he's more amenable to the presence of others.

It was pleasant enough. Munchkin is a good little girl, calm and well behaved which is more than we can say for our two. They tend, after the initial greeting to more or less ignore each others' presence. In that sense they get along well together. When we're in the presence of others I tend to feel an impulse to carry a conversation. And in this instance, moving through the forest trails of the ravine landscape, more or less 'entertaining' people, pointing out the presence of interesting landscape features or wildflowers or fungi they'd never before noticed.

Jackie and Jillie are far more sensible; they tend to ignore social niceties and while accepting the presence of others feel no obligation to communicate incessantly, thus not ending up as I feel I do, missing that essential daily 'nature commune' experience.

But I can always depend on Irving to carry on conversations, doing what I  tend to do, but with no internal tension. He's obliging when it comes to chatting, and I'm happy to leave the bulk of it to his discretion. It helped that we were out on yet another glorious summer day; warming up from the previous days of cooler, windier and overcast, sometimes-rainy weather.

We ended up as we tend to do more frequently now, visiting the meadow for our daily wildflower treat. Where also incidentally, a good feast of wild berries can be found to treat Jackie and Jillie with.