We're heading into another midsummer heat wave. Which means our afternoon hikes through the forest will be accompanied by heat and humidity, even though the forest canopy offers cooling shade. Everything is relative, however. If you're actively engaged in an activity requiring energy, the exertion creates its own inner heat which added to the exterior atmospheric heat makes for discomfort. So to avoid that, out we went this morning before breakfast in a bit of a routine alteration.

At that time of the morning although the sun gleaming down from an aqua sky absent of any cloud formations, the temperature seems reasonable. Cool, even. Since at that time it had only edged up to 22C. And there's always a bit of wind and that too helps,  until it becomes the hot breath of a bellowing overheated day. 

We were out and about for close to two hours. In that landscape nothing urges us to hurry. Life is one big hurry-event. At our age and in our circumstances there's no longer a need to hurry. We manage to get everything done in the time allotted in any event. That light-bulb idea wasn't ours alone. We came upon a good number of people now and again, though as usual some trails we had all to ourselves. One  young chap we see on occasion stopped for a gasping conversation. 

He was streaming perspiration, so the gasps were his, not ours. He constantly challenges himself physically. In the winter, it's forging new pathways through the snow-heaped ground of the forest, something that cannot be done during these months of rampant vegetation growth. In the summer he speeds through the trails on a run, returns to the start and begins all over again.

Jackie and Jillie, though their barking drives us to distraction, never bark at people they're familiar with. And they've learned to happily accept the presence of other dogs they know, since when cookie handout time arrives, they're beneficiaries. They also benefit from the occasional stops that Irving makes to pluck a few ripe raspberries here and there.

Since at that early morning hour we were both wearing long sleeves and pants, we decided to risk the sawgrass and make our way through that narrow, grassed-in pathway making for the pollinating meadow, before leaving the ravine. The wildflowers have proliferated wildly. Queen Anne's lace, cowvetch, fleabane, daisies, compass plant, thimbleberries, and those wonderfully colourful black-eyed Susans. Wading into the grasses, awakening mosquitoes, I came abreast of chest-high triple-petalled and bulls'-eye black-eyed Susans, a veritable sea of them. 

We sat for awhile in the garden, cooling ourselves in its shade from our mature, overhanging trees. An opportunity to water a few pots, pluck a few weeds, take a few photographs, discuss what's doing well and what is lagging. All the while knowing that soon after our late breakfast we'd be checking in at Pridham's live action to determine what will be happening with Irving's bid for a Japanese court vase. His choice selection was about two-thirds of the way through a total of over 300 objects to be auctioned off.

The sense of suspense over whether you can net an object you admire and would like to add to your collection once saw people having to appear at the auction houses in person, or bid by telephone. Now it's made infinitely more convenient by internet connection where live auction events are broadcast and interested bidders submit their bids hoping that no one else will outbid them.

Irving had placed a bid, then indicated his top bid. This morning he had me raise that top bid. Had he not he would have seen the vase slip away from his ownership, because when it came up finally, bidding escalated from the opening bid until it surpassed his original ceiling. Then kept rising, and finally stopped almost at his amended ceiling. A winner!