It's really hard to distinguish individuals when you're looking at wildlife. For that matter, identifying differences in dog companions too, given that most people seeing Jackie and Jillie, brother and sister siblings, think they're identical twins. They're anything but; quite physically different as well as personality-wise. 

Often when we look out through the front door at the succession of our wild animal neighbours who come to pay courtesy calls, we identify some we've seen often before, but we can never be certain, since there are an infinite number of red, black and grey squirrels. As for chipmunks, how do we know whether there's one or more if we tend to see only one at a time? It's easier with the birds in a sense since we see a pair of song sparrows often arriving together, and the same with cardinals.

Last night as we went up to bed, there were no raccoons on the porch at that particular time; they'd been around earlier, and we think we can distinguish one family from another, individuals from one another, but mostly it's illusional. We can't be certain but we're certain anyway for the comfort it allows us in our sloppy thinking. 

After Jackie and Jillie have gone out for their last foray into the backyard before bed, we take care to tell them to avoid the front door. Their tendency is to rush over and begin barking at whoever might be there. Some of our visitors are accustomed to these two brash little dogs and pay no attention to them, others are frightened away, and we would prefer they not be. So we tell J&J no stopping, right upstairs with you, and they do just that.

Leaving us free to glance out to see who might be there. I'm fairly certain that Mr.LePeu has relatives larger than he is since the fellow that was out on the porch last night appeared considerably larger than Mr. LePeu's original appearance months ago. And though we've seen him on a number of occasions since, he seemed smaller than the fellow that was there yesterday. But like Mr.LePeu he chose to ignore the peanuts and concentrate on the biscuits that Irving also puts out in the evening.

This morning another lovely late summer day greeted us. We enjoyed it as we sallied out numerous times through the morning and afternoon into the back garden with Jackie and Jillie, who refuse to go out on their own. Irving had mowed the front lawn after breakfast, and after I had done all the interminable dusting, he did the vacuuming, leaving the dry mopping and floor washing to me, as is our usual routine.

Later, once the housework was done, as Jackie and Jillie recognized all the hints as I backed out of the freshly-washed breakfast room, and the doors leading to the kitchen, the hallway, the laundry room and the powder room were all closed to their entry while the floors dried, they yipped excitedly, prepared to follow me upstairs as I changed into outdoor clothing.

Then they escorted us out to the ravine for an afternoon trek through the forest trails. There were clouds above, but ample blue sky to allow the sun to warm our backs as we accessed the ravine, before the forest canopy absorbed the rays of the sun and we entered the cool shade of the forest pathways. J&J always stop at the very same spot, convenient for them, inconvenient for us, halfway up a short hill, in expectation that right there, right then, treats would be dispensed. Invariably, they are.

We wind our way through the trails, noting time and again the presence of giant old pines among the maples and willows, oaks and poplars. Some quite large spruce and fir, but not many cedars other than a few saplings. We do know in the far stretches of the forest where cedars dominate in a small area but haven't been by there in ages. Being out there in the forest, surrounded by the bright green of deciduous trees is calming and comfortable. 

Many of the older pines have double, even triple masts. It's why they're still standing. When this forest was logged out, it was tall straight, single-masted trees that were chosen, initially for sailing ships' masts, later for telephone and lighting poles. That was long ago. The forest is left to its own devices now, a natural treasure for a community where some within prize its natural presence in an urbanized landscape.