We had refreshing, fresh and sweet fresh blueberries for dessert last night. They were the largest we'd ever seen, and certainly the best-tasting. I decided to hold some back and use them today for a glaze over a cheesecake. When Irving saw the cheesecake cooling on the counter, he remarked that the cherry-topped cheesecake looked really inviting. That's how large the blueberries were. 

We woke late this morning. We tend to 'sleep in' quite often. And we have a tendency to go up to bed too late. It's all a matter of perspective; guess we've become night owls. It seems to be what suits us best. It was a cool night, last night, so I was glad that I had thought ahead and when I changed the bed linen, put a light cotton coverlet on. We needed it last night. We'd gone from extreme heat and humidity, to cool humidity, if that makes any sense.

There was a good breeze coming through the bedroom window, but the window had to be closed repeatedly whenever yet another rain squall came through the area, one after another. To inundate our already-saturated environment. And to think that severe drought is creating desperate conditions elsewhere in the world...

When we finally did arise, it was just when yet another squall was coming down, the rain hitting the deck canopy and pouring off its edges. We awaited until it abated slightly before going out with Jackie and Jillie. A brief event, under the circumstances. Jillie stays under the four-foot-elevated deck so she doesn't get very wet, but Jackie hurtles himself right into the rain, to do his business. And they both get a good rub-down back in the house; a ritual they revel in.

When rain finally stopped, no chance the cloud cover would lift. It just sat there, unmoving, glowering down at us. But withholding rain, so we decided we'd get out for our afternoon  hike. The temperature managed to edge up to 19C, so rain jackets were needed both for the comfort of warmth they conferred and the assurance that if the skies dumped again, we'd be covered, as it were. As luck had it, no more rain.

The wild apple trees in the forest look rather the worse for wear. Some have lost at least fifty percent of their foliage. And on many there's not an apple to be seen. Others sport apples but at a height and awkwardness that makes it impossible for us to pick any apples. And others yet just drop their ripe apples; if they're growing on a ridge, the apples tumble into steep-sided gullies below. The terrain, after all, is that of a forest within a ravine.

Irving is enterprising as usual, knowing how much Jackie and Jillie enjoy those apples at this time of year, so he hunts for a freshly fallen apple, polishes its perfect surface and begins to bite off small portions that he offers to the puppies. Another wonderful fall awaits them, their favourite time of year.