It happens infrequently but when circumstances dictate we miss a hike through the forest caused by weather conditions, we feel anxious and guilty on behalf of our two little dogs. It's not that they consciously depend on these daily excursions in the woods, but they do enjoy them, and we know those trots are a great aid to their health. Ours as well, of course. Missing two days in a row is quite simply unthinkable.

We're into a spate of daily rain events. Heavy and relentless at times, wiping out most of the day. Usually we can manage to find a window of opportunity to get out between rain events, but not always, and yesterday was one of those impossible-to-negotiate-with-the-weather days. Part of the afternoon ritual was disturbed, but not that part where a fresh vegetable salad is catered to the pups after their ravine romp.

We knew when Jackie woke us at the crack of dawn that this was one of the after-effects of missing their walk. Drawing a rain jacket over my nightgown, out I went with him. Twice, as it happens. Irving came down to wipe them dry after each outdoor trip since the atmosphere was still dripping from heavy rain of the night, all night.

And since today is our regular food shopping day, J & J were upset when we left the house without them to do the shopping. The moaning, groaning, barking and howling rivals what could be imagined of a banshee gathering. And the upshot of that is on our return they leap all over us, relieved that their world has turned right side up again. Still, Jackie's sensitivity comes to the fore when he feels too out of sorts to eat. 

That was rectified when we decided -- keeping an eye on the sky -- that the rain had abated sufficiently to expect it to come to a stop, and that getting ourselves out in a light patter of rain was the right decision. They forget their distaste of trotting along in wet grass once they're in the ravine; they can avoid wet vegetation by remaining on the forest trails, completely sodden, but firm.

Just like in the garden, tall plants are brought low by the inundation of rain and we noted the Himalayan orchids bearing transparent pearls of rain, and the tall feral coreopsis plants hanging down with the weight of the rain on their slender stalks. 

Entering the forest is to enter a world of perpetual dusk, and with a dark ceiling of clouds that dusk almost resembles night pulling down the day's blind and disappearing the sun. So dark that the camera balks at recording scenes it normally captures with faithful ease. For the most part the forest canopy keeps capturing the light rain that falls lightly, though the occasional drop gets through to plop on us.

At the three-quarters point of our circuit we heard distant thunder repeatedly boasting of its presence elsewhere. But although the sky remained heavy weighted with dark-streaked clouds, thunder and lightning while thumping and crackling elsewhere fails to approach us for the time we're out for our hike.

The atmosphere may be humid, the lighting absent, but the occasional dedicated hiker with a dog companion greets us, and their dogs line up for the usual cookie handouts. Including, of course, ours.

Once we return home, I decide to spend a few minutes in the garden. To stake up a few tall flowering plants that have fallen over with the weight of rain. And while I'm at it, I decide to do some weeding paying attention to the weeds that manage to find adequate space to grow between the narrow cracks of abutting bricks. Finally, prepred to go back into the house, I lower the open garage door. And that's when I see a fair sized garter snake winding about on the cement floor. 

That's a new one for us. Squirrels, rabbits on occasion, sure, but a snake? He's on the side opposite to where I'm standing, so I hit the button for the garage door closest to him and as soon as it begins to rise, the snake immediately heads toward it. I watch as it frantically speeds its journey toward the nearest garden bed and disappears under a hill of hosta foliage.

We assume that when Irving was taking out the household waste for garbage pick-up late last night while it was heavily raining and the garage door was up, a snake, drowned out of its nearby nest found a dry spot in the garage, then found itself trapped over-night. I was as glad to release it back into the wild to reclaim its nest as it was to exit a hostile, unfamiliar environment housing insensitive, non-communicative beasts on rubber tires.