October came in gently, unwilling to leave the impression that September is the kindest month of Autumn. October can be, too. So the first day of the month was a tad warmer than the day before, the last day of September and there was more sun and it was an absolutely beautiful day. Hello, October, good to see you again!

And then, and then. Rain started pelting the windows late last night. When Jackie and Jillie were taken out to the backyard before bedtime, it was an exercise in instant pee-and-you're-done. Executed under the deck, where they could stay relatively dry; they made a beeline for it. 

Earlier in the evening it hadn't yet begun raining. Our midnight visitors -- at least one group of them -- were ensconced on the porch, nibbling daintily away at peanuts and biscuits. This was the group comprised of Mama and five offspring. Some of whom have outstripped others in the group in size. They know we're there, when we appear at the glass front door, and take little notice. Occasionally one will look up at us, then resume his nibbling.

Mama usually has her back to the door, with a night-eye view of everything in front of her, the garden, walkway, and out beyond, sensitive to any sound or movement. On occasion the mama raccoon will alert her kits and they'll all instantly disappear through the porch surround. Invariably, they'll return a few moments later to resume where they left off, reassured that it was a false alarm.

Irving was intent on putting out more goodies, but the first group hung around. Soon one of the large kits splayed himself out on his back in one of those completely relaxed poses dogs we're familiar with will sometimes take, blissed out and totally ready for a nap. When they did eventually move on, before Irving could act on his impulse, two juveniles appeared.

They edged back slightly as Irving exited onto the porch to distribute more biscuits and peanuts, and they waited patiently under the bench until he was finished, and when he returned to the house, out they came to placidly take their place beside the food and begin their repast. There is ample shelter on the porch from the two-story overhang, from the rain.

Overnight the rain continued. This morning the rain was heavy, pounding on the metal canopy on the deck, but last night's performance was repeated; out-and-in with two drenched little puppies who had a good rubdown and were still wet. But breakfast went a long way to salving that wet assault. Rain showed no signs of abating and we mentally prepared ourselves for a totally indoor day.

Although Jackie and Jillie were aware rain was pounding down without cease, they still relayed the impression that they were anticipating a ravine hike. They balk at going out in the rain to the backyard, but still are intent on roving through the forest trails. Fortunately by three in the afternoon the rain relented, became less frantic and then stopped. That's when we sprang into action, got our rainjackets on and left for a quick foray into the ravine, knowing the rain was certain to resume at some point.

Everything in the ravine was slick with rain, well lacquered and bright with that bizarre light an overcast sky and daytime dusk introduces to the forest. The rain had stopped for the nonce, but in the interior of the forest there was a steady drip from the forest canopy shedding its overburden of rain. It seemed to us that overnight a subtle colour change had taken place; foliage that had been dark, bright green yesterday was now sporting a wan yellow shade.

The air was saturated, the vision prospect seemed influenced by the moisture-laden atmosphere; colours seemed brighter, though objects appeared somewhat indistinct, as though viewed through a watery veil. No rain descended during the period we were out. So we felt pretty fortunate, having our outing-cake and enjoying the frosting.