Third day back from our trip, we're easing back into routine. The first order of business was emailing family on our return, including a brief description of the trip. Sometimes getting bogged down in telephone conversations for exhaustive discussions. But time is our friend, we're relaxed and taking things as they come. No big hurry, everything will straighten back to routine in no time.

Certainly Jackie and Jillie are happy to be home again. They adjusted quickly to our 'away' environment in the cottage, and it's likely they remember from previous years the various cottages we've stayed in with them. Their excitement every time we drove up to a trail head infused us as well with a delighted anticipation of revisiting old familiar haunts. Now that we're back on more intimately familiar trails they've known all their lives, they're equally enthusiastic.

The garden doesn't look too different than it had when we left just over a week ago. Mind, even then, it looked exhausted though still carrying on. It is preparing itself, however, for the onset of frosty nights. Awaiting that sad time when everything will be cut back, the perennials and shrubs at any rate. Annuals will be lifted and composted.

The bright colours and insouciant attitudes of the garden in its various poses will be muted and missed. The deciduous trees in the garden will see their leaves vacate their branches in a sad farewell. The crabapple trees are still shedding their fruit, and Jackie and Jillie enjoy the tiny apples as snacks after their hikes through the forest trails.

More than enough food in the refrigerator so we don't have to go shopping yet. Although Irving did pop out to pick up some fresh fruit to do us over the next few days. Not that there wasn't plenty left to greet us on arrival. I've  unpacked but Irving has yet to unpack his stuff. 

We carried on with  our ravine walks with Jackie and Jillie each day of our return, including the day we returned. The forest looks like fall. The canopy is beginning to change, and enough leaves have drifted off the trees onto the forest floor to make it quite clear that the woods are ready to bid farewell to fall in favour of winter. There's a broad emerging pale yellow cast making its way onto the green leaf mass.

Poplar leaves coloured with soft yellows and oranges and pinks have fallen, as well as bright crimson maple leaves. The sumacs are turning that typical flame-red of their species. Wildflowers have succumbed to the cold and excessive moisture. Goldenrod has turned from bright yellow to dark brown, shrivelling just as the black-eyed Susans have, though the Himalayan orchids remain defiantly bright pink. 

We've been impressed by the large numbers of people and dogs we've seen making their way through the woods these past few days. It's unusual in our experience. We more generally never would see others out on the trails in years back. The pandemic appears to have changed a lot of peoples' attitudes and habits; perhaps more people in the community have learned to value the opportunity the wooded ravine presents as a healthy alternative to remaining closeted at home.

A wider circle of dogs appear to have realized that someone who is out regularly on the trails doesn't mind handing out treats, and consequently we're seeing dogs never before encountered discovering goodies when they come across Irving handing out dog cookies to dogs long accustomed to politely asking for them. Good as a fast-track educational tool for dogs. Jackie and Jillie quickly understood that if other dogs were being treated, they would be as well.