There is such an abundance at this time of year, of fresh fruit, berries and cherries in particular, that we tend to overshop. No waste, though. After we've had our fill of the fruit in its fresh state, what's left -- and usually it's considerable -- can always be used for pie filling. Who doesn't like fruit pie? So that's what I planned for the overabundance in this house of fresh cherries. 

Anyone who has ever pitted hundreds of cherries has an idea of how boring it is. Pulling the stems, halving the cherries and digging out the pits. The ultimate manual coordination required, against a complete abandonment of intelligent thought. On and on, while the pile depletes slowly and steadily and you think you'll never get to the end of them. The mechanical act of piling up pitted cherries, swiftly tossing the extracted stones and plucked stems directly into the compost pail.

 

At least that's the idea. There were so many cherries to work with I realized that I was on automatic that occasionally rebelled, with destinations switched. So I dug the stones and the stems from time to time out of the growing pile of cherry halves, shuddering at the thought of breaking a tooth on an errant stone while enjoying a thick, moist and flavourful mouthful of pie filling.

Today's a beautiful day. Although every day is in a sense when life is good to you, despite something as trifling as the weather, yesterday's unusual cold to usher in September, along with a howling wind and heavily dark-streaked clouds obscuring the sun was too chilly for our tastes. We needed jackets when we took Jackie and Jillie out to the ravine. But not today. A mite on the cool side, but in essence, perfect balance between light breezes, full sun exposure and no rain in the forecast.

 

Environment Canada has announced that this has been the rainiest August since 1893. Now, that's some record. It's usually July that's the rainiest summer month, but not this year. It seemed to rain each and every day of the August calendar. Despite which, we didn't miss one day hauling ourselves out to the forest trails; either in brief respites from rain, or in light showers prefacing serious rain, when the forest canopy kept us dry.

 

The garden, which was looking so sad and sorry for itself lately has picked up as well. True, some plants appear to have drowned in the excess of rain, but most survived and have perked up, appearing now able to carry on until there is a radical change. Our night-time low yesterday was 10C, but it'll have to get a whole lot cooler before plants are affected.

 

So meanwhile, the garden has rallied and it looks fairly presentable. The flowers still blooming, turning their happy faces to us -- or more correctly to the sun. A reprieve. Before the serious business of fall becomes irreversible. I can't even bear to think of a month from now cutting back perennials, hauling in annuals, in general preparation for winter's onslaught.

And come to think of it, I'm still wondering what happened to all those bulbs I planted last fall, anticipating a colourful surprise the following spring. It never did quite materialize. At least not to excited expectations.