We always breathe easier when we hear from our son after he's been off on a trip, whether it's back-packing on a weekend alpine climb, or kayak-camping off Vancouver Island. This time it was a day or so in Nanaimo taking a course in kayak roll-overs, then spending three days at Tofino, camping and kayaking off the mainland coast. Where he saw osprey, sandpipers, great rolling ocean waves, and wolf tracks on the beach where he was camping on his third morning out. 

 Before he left for his trip he had sent us some of his pottery just hot out of the oven, so to speak. He sent two bowls for his sister which we're tasked to deliver, and two pieces for us, a kitchen-utensil holder, and a pie-crusted half-shelf for the breakfast room. The glazes are perfect colour matches for the ceramic tiling Irving had laid down years ago; floors and walls.

Another really cold night last night, but this morning eye-blisteringly bright and warming for the weekend. Evidently a heat dome over the U.S. is impacting on our weather, making the Labour Day weekend both there and here a touch on the hot side.

The appearance of a glaringly fierce sun in an ocean of blue sky has given new life to the garden. It glows and shimmers in the heat of the sun, yet anticipating that this level of heat is likely to bring along thunderstorms. There was a brief tornado warning in parts of this close geographic area yesterday early evening, that failed to materialize and it's possible thunderstorms will not appear as well. So we'll resort to hosing things down tomorrow.

It took a while for the house to warm up this morning from yesterday evening's 16C, and when we exited the house for our afternoon turn in the ravine earlier than usual, the thermometer had edged up only to 23C, so knowing how much cooler the forest environs are, we wore, to our later regret, light but long-sleeved shirts.

 It's impossible not to notice that vegetation is steadily drying up in the forest. Already some of the bracken on t he forest floor has turned bright yellow, and some has already been reabsorbed into the soil, leaving a bare-earth look where once it had been crowded with greenery. And though there are as yet few coloured leaves; the occasional poplar or maple leaf that tumbled down in  high  winds, they're now joined by bright green leaves that nature has perusaded to abandon their perch on branches.

Many of the hawthorns are now almost bare. As are some of the wild apple trees. It hasn't been a good year for either of them, in comparison to last year when each species bore bumper crops of fruit. Now there is less colour in the forest, though goldenrod and asters are in bloom. This year there has been an enormous amount of ragweed, but the flower heads have failed to turn white, so far. Poison ivy and dog strangulation vine, on the other hand, are looking in top shape.

By the time we returned back home after a lengthy circuit where we saw only three other people in an hour-and-a-half on the trails, we were feeling the heat. And so was the garden. If flowers could hang out their tongues as an expression of how they were feeling under the sun's relentless glare, we wouldn't have been surprised; as it was, they were visibly wilting and would in all likelihood appreciate a splash-down.