That old familiar phrase of nostalgia: 'it seems like only yesterday'... Well, it was only yesterday or the day before, or the day before that when we were panting in the heat and humidity, basking under an overheated sun, enjoying light cooling breezes. As though overnight it has all changed. Well  I did forget to throw in the almost-daily rain events -- the thunderstorms that interrupted the sun in its diurnal sweep across the sky.

August, our region's wettest on record since 1898 or thereabouts, has given way to September. I know the shorter days have been happening for a while, but it seems as though in tandem with the calendar the weather turned cooler, the sun is more in evidence, balancing out the cooler atmosphere in daylight hours. When night falls, however, the full impact of the cold hits when the night time low is 10C. With that, wind and overnight thunderstorms.

The garden has rolled with these transitions, sudden as they seem to us. We realize that we're missing some old floral standbys, they've departed when we weren't looking. We need a warm comforter at night when the breeze coming through the bedroom window is brisk and cold. And we need to be fortified by a different menu, one lighter on summer salads and more geared to cool-weather repasts.

We decided on a roast for yesterday, and when Irving was given the choice between new potatoes and Yorkshire pudding, he grinned, and didn't have to articulate his choice. My revenge as it were? Why broccoli of course, not his very favourite vegetable by any means, but part of the menu. Augmented by fresh sliced peaches for dessert.

We spoke with our son Jordan last night. He returned to Vancouver from another kayak-camping trip to a few islands beyond Tofino. In his email and with photos he sent he casually mentioned the presence of a wolf. Wolf tracks on the beach where he had set up his camp, that is. Last night he expanded on the experience. While he was cooking dinner one evening he looked up to see a wolf emerge from the forest behind the beach and stride over toward his tent.

He ordered it in no uncertain terms to decamp, but it looked fairly unconcerned, looked at him, looked around, then retreated back to the woods. The next morning was when he saw the wolf prints, all along the edge of the beach, beside the water's edge. Wolves in the area are accustomed to the presence of people evidently, and they keep a regular lookout for anything edible washed up on shore from the ocean tides. He did see the wolf again, another day, and watched as it 'trap-lined', as he explained it.

Today was cool and sunny for us. The wildflowers in the ravine in their seasonal presence continue to offer some appreciated colour; lots of Himalayan orchids still blooming. The area where we used to see the late-blooming, large pink-mauve asters to our surprise no longer hosts them. They were the sole area in the forest where we were accustomed to seeing them year after year. Kind of disappearing since they're the largest and prettiest of the fall asters. But then, we suddenly noticed in an entirely, far-removed spot where we'd never seen them before, a sole patch of those beautiful asters.

Even the garden looked happier today, when we returned from our afternoon hike in the ravine. Many plants appreciate cooler weather, and certainly they do enjoy having more sun warm and tickle them to ongoing growth and bloom. Irving was out early in the day with the new lawn mower tiding up the lawn and even it looked happier.