We've been given an early taste of Autumn this day. Anomalous, we dare hope. Two days ago we were sweltering in deep heat and humidity, hot enough to ensure that thunderstorms were in the offing. Only yesterday it was hot enough to embark on our usual daily adventure in the ravine with Jackie and Jillie, in a light pattering rain with humidity dense and suffocating. We managed that little tour of the forest in between heavier rain events, including a number of thunderstorms.

But today? Huzzah! No rain. Scudding dark clouds, brisk wind and cold temperature, but no rain. A few errant glimpses of sun now and again, yes. The poor garden looks somewhat confused. Our giant tomato plant in the backyard that looked down on my modest height, though securely staked, decided to flop, exhausted from carrying that amount of rainwater weighing down its expansive foliage.

And in the front garden two of the gladiolas, securely staked, snapped three-quarters of the way up the stalk, the bright red flowers telegraphing their distress, upside-down on the fallen-over stalk. All the petunias have become incredibly leggy, though still happily flowering. Some flowering plants like lobelia that I used so lavishly in the garden pots have long since given up their brilliant little ghosts.

We've seen and admired the garden through many months of flaunting beauty and just feel a little regretful it's come to this. Garden centers are now featuring bright and beautiful chrysanthemums in flower, those Fall stalwarts. I really should pick up a few to plug up a few colour-gaps in the garden, and to cheer it up a bit.

We've noted, for the past week, at those areas on the forest floor under the locations of two large wasp nests, a growing accumulation of stout sticks. Evidence of area teens viewing nature as an enemy, somehow failing to recognize the forest's beneficial presence to all of us. Their target has obviously been the large dangling wasp nests. But they failed to hit it as was their intent, obviously.

Obviously enough, the destruction of those nests obsessed some little delinquents of the juvenile variety who presumably made  a game of it between themselves to see who could most forcefully and accurately hit the nests. Some among them succeeded, since today both nests located roughly 20 feet distant from one another, have been completely shattered.

We've seen it all on past occasions, young boys out with axes in the woods playing lumberman, others trying to light fires. Once, years ago, we had to call the fire department when we did see a raging fire. Irving clambered up a hill to confront a young man who appeared half inebriated to ask what the hell he thought he was doing, ordering him to put the fire out. He just grinned stupidly.

When firefighters arrived to put out the fire so did police and he was taken into custody. On another occasion we came across the still-smouldering interior of a huge old pine that had been hollowed out. That fire too had been put out, but in the year that followed the tree broke in a high wind.

Clearly, not everyone regards our proximity to a natural forest and ravine running through the community as a shared treasure of good fortune.