It's hard to recall that in the years before our retirement, long after our children left home to strike out on their own, both Irving and I spent at least an hour each way every weekday taking public transit to our places of employment. Bedtime was around 10:00 pm and we'd set the alarm for 6:30 am, have a hurried breakfast, shower, dress and scoot out the door to catch a bus for the hour it would take to get to work. And then repeat the ritual in reverse.

We seldom go up to bed now before midnight, and mindful of at least an eight-hour sleeping period, we arise at a much later hour than of  yore. Correction: we awake, and take our sweet time rising. Jackie and Jillie, leap all over us as soon as we utter a word. They sleep quietly as long as we do. Once we're no longer asleep they demand attention, tails wagging like metronomes. 

As for hurrying with our showers, no such thing. Much less rushing through breakfast. We savour the food we eat, and take our time  eating it. And breakfast time is the perfect time to catch up on the day's news; it's why we have two newspapers delivered every morning. By the time we shift ourselves away from the breakfast table, it's comfortably late in the morning. 

By which time we've also been outside in the backyard with Jackie and Jillie at least three times. To enjoy whatever weather there is, to mark whatever changes there have been in the continually evolving garden as a ritual of pleasurable occupation. Jackie and Jillie will tolerate being out in the backyard just so long and no longer. Usually they bolt out the glass doors immediately they're slid open in a frantic bid to catch any critturs bold enough to make themselves comfortable in THEIR backyard. It looks as though a pair of robins might have considered building a nest in the supports under the deck, as happened once before. Our two little bullies will chase squirrels, chipmunks, raccoons and birds just to let them know who 'belongs' and who doesn't.

Irving had gone out yesterday afternoon on one of his famous little shopping trips and made a number of stops. Among other things he brought back, a tub of cream cheese. And as often happens that meant we now had two tubs since we'd already bought one and it hadn't yet even been opened. Solution to my wondering what I'd bake for dessert. A cheesecake came immediately to mind. And I could use 2/3 of the pint of fresh blueberries I'd bought to top the cheesecake with a glaze, saving the remainder to include in Sunday's waffles.

Last night the air quality index hit the top of the 'danger' chart. Today it moderated from 10+ to 7 (we're usually below 3), so not too good, but not disastrous. Not to disappoint Jackie and Jillie, we set off for the ravine in mid-afternoon under a deeply-hazed sky. A humid day but not a hot one, unlike yesterday. We stayed out on a little longer circuit than we did yesterday just so we wouldn't be breathing in those micro particulates for longer than might be recommended. 

Despite the warnings being issued by health authorities, we haven't felt any deleterious effects that we could readily recognize afflicting us with our exposure to the polluted atmosphere. Of course there are likely to be effects we're not aware of that could conceivably impact our lungs on a longer-term basis. However, the exercise our limbs are exposed to, the pleasure of being out in the forest, the interest in seeing the vegetation change day by day, hearing birds sing and seeing bees and butterflies and dragonflies and damselflies flitting among the wildflowers is a treat of many dimensions.

 

The wind shifts ceaselessly in this year dominated by out-of-control forest fires that fire fighting crews are working 14-hour-days in ongoing efforts to bring them under control in Ontario and Quebec at our central placement in the vastness of Canada where almost every province has its own problem with these blazes consuming huge tracts of forest. For weeks the smoke from the fires has drifted from Canadian skies to our neighbours' to the south. Now parts of Europe are experiencing the acridity, but there it's high enough as it drifts not to present too much of a pollution problem further down at ground level.

 

For the past several days while we had heavy rain events with ongoing thunderstorms the air quality was deemed to be 'fair'. And it was also cool. In between these 'fair', rainy days, we get the occasionally sunny, warmer day and we can see the haze and smell the acridity. Today we've been warned that the threat level from particulate matter floating on the atmosphere is high and dangerous for select groups of people. We're in that category, given our age of 86, but when we're outside we haven't experienced any breathing difficulties.

 

Yesterday when it was cool and threatening rain I used our push-mower to cut our postage-stamp lawn in the backyard. Today, quite a bit warmer and sunnier, Irving cut the front lawn with the electric mower. It was too hot, the air quality too compromised, so it was an exhausting exercise. 

 

 

He also stopped in at one of the Dollar stores that carries gardening supplies and bought three really stout bamboo poles and two packages of three long and slender bamboo stakes. I used them this afternoon for the three clematis vines that managed to survive last fall's new fence being installed. They can no longer climb the fence since it's not wood, but a kind of vinyl material, so the stakes are perfect.

 

 

In deference to the polluted air warnings, we decided not to stay out long when we took Jackie and Jillie out to the ravine for their daily romp through the trails. So once again, as we did yesterday we mapped out a much shorter circuit, which took us alongside the creek and also the forest pollinating meadow. We're seeing many more bees about now, concentrating on their pollen collection, lingering at the ample number of blossoms that will become thimbleberries, blackberries and elderberries.

 

One of the cardinal things we appreciate about the Ottawa Valley. It is green, indisputably green. You cannot go very far without encountering forest. Ever since we moved here almost fifty years ago we've lived in green space. When we lived in Toronto, a trip to a park was never out of the question, Toronto has plenty of them, including High Park, its park-of-parks. In Ottawa we first lived within the city Greenbelt area in Blackburn Hamlet where the small city-within-a-city was designed with walking and green spaces running through the area.

 

Our second home here is located close to the first and it too is in walking distance of forest, more so in fact than the first. Green space is everywhere in this city, and the further away from the central core, the more immersed one is in green, although the urban forest within the city itself is treasured. The health of the air quality in Ottawa is unparalleled. And suddenly, for only the second time we can recall, when forest fires decades ago sent spiralling grey clouds of smoke into Ottawa, our air has once more become polluted.

 

This latest catastrophic round of forest fires throughout much of Canada has exposed millions of people to the affects of air pollution. Exposure threatens the health of the elderly, the young and the health-compromised. Health outcomes directly linked to fine particulate matter in the air like what we're experiencing, includes increased acute respiratory symptoms; chronic bronchitis; asthma; cardiac hospital admissions, emergency room visits; pediatric bronchitis and premature death, if that isn't enough.

 

Elderberry

We're just on the edge of the worst of the circulating air quality collapse. We've had a few days of bad quality, when Ottawa qualified as having the worst air pollution in the country for a number of days -- just off the scales -- to where it sits today, at 'fair'. We've had ongoing thunderstorm series whipping through the landscape for the past three or four days and more to come, along with high wind. The wind is what brings the wildfire haze and acridity to us, the rain is what diminishes its effect.

 

Irving went out soon after breakfast today to run a number of errors. After heavy overnight rain once again, it was sprinkling as he left. After I finished my household chores I took Jackie and Jillie out to the backyard and it was up to them whether to stay or to go back into the house; I kept the door ajar. I was busy doing some shrub trimming, pulling weeds, and decided because Irving had no opportunity to cut the grass, to haul out our push mower and mow the grass in the backyard. It didn't take long and I don't mind doing it.

 

Then I resumed filling up a compost bag with woody detritus and the snips of spent flowers. It's amazing how quickly those large compost/compostible bags fill up. All the while the sky was full of steel-grey clouds and it looked and felt like rain was imminent, but it held up. I decided to make preparations for a quick walk in the woods with Jackie and Jillie in the hope we could be in and out before the rain commenced. Just as we were preparing to leave, Irving returned home, and we all set off together.

 

Winterberry

The differences we see in the ambient vegetation in the ravine, particularly in the area around the creek and all the more so in the forest's pollinating meadow is astonishing from day to day. Rain has a lot to do with it, needless to say. The forest has been soaking it all up. The creek is fuller now and little rapids froth down the creek raceway taking wind-blasted detritus with it.

 

The Elderberry trees numerous in the forest understudy, challenging the primacy of the dogwood shrubs, are now in bloom. We saw Yarrow beginning to bloom for the first time this summer. Winterberry shrubs have already turned bright red; they waste no time at all. Even milkweed, more of them and more robust than we've ever seen them before, are blooming, though we've not yet seen any sign of Monarchs about.

 

We weren't the only ones challenging the weather and trusting we could make it through a shortened circuit without encountering a heavy downpour. Dedicated trail-walkers with their equally dedicated dog companions were out as well, alert to the tell-tale invitation expressed by Jillie's barking to guide them to where Irving happens to be anywhere along the trail system. They arrive, excited at the prospect of being treated to cookies, and when Irving pats them on the head and tells them 'that's all for now', off they go back to wherever it is they left their humans.

 

The series of thunderstorms that rumbled and rolled through our area yesterday inundated the landscape to the point where we felt saturation was at its peak. After about six of these thunderstorms bolted through, there was a period of calm and cessation of rain. And then the temperature plunged, cooling off notably to the extent where when only hours earlier the thick atmosphere of humidity exacerbating the ambient heated environment gave over to a sharp chill and we actually felt cold.

 

Looking out the bedroom window from bed this morning it was clear that wildfire haze remained a problem. Apart from the smoky haze, dark-streaked clouds were scuttling through the sky. A high wind prevailed, forceful enough to sway the crowns of trees in the distance from the forested ravine. The forecast warned of a repeat of yesterday when we'd risked going out for our hike through the forest earlier than usual with Jackie and Jillie, and were able to evade rain.

 

There were even tantalizing and brief episodes of sun breaking through what looked like an impenetrable shield of stormy clouds. So we did a repeat of yesterday, cleaning up from breakfast and setting off for the ravine. In some areas the forest floor was drenched but not overwhelmingly so, despite the overnight rain that had topped the series of thunderstorms the day before. The creek was turbid and tumbling with rainwater but not excessively so.

 

The takeaway from that is a forest so parched it had eagerly absorbed all the steady rain events some of which seemed overwhelmingly violent in intensity. Yesterday's air quality was in the poor range, although not quite that of Sunday's when it was right off the scale, the amount of fine particulate matter from Quebec and Northern Ontario's wildfires topping the scale of hazardous air quality. Today, by comparison it was considered 'fair'. The atmosphere was so polluted a number of downtown public events were cancelled, like the Ottawa Dragon Boat Festival, and the summer solstice Indigenous Festival.

 

Our tramp through the ravine was uneventful and pleasant, and we came across no one else out on this day. Perhaps unwilling the risk of the potential of being caught out in a violent thunderstorm, or just feeling the effects of the extreme humidity that made the temperature of 24C seem more like 30C. The always-dusky atmosphere of the forest interior emphasized colour, aided by the remaining glistening effect of the night's rainfall. Negotiating the up- and down-hill was in fact made more footsure since the surface dampness on the grit of the hillside trails made for good boot gripping.

 

When we later set off for our weekly supermarket shopping, the sky opened briefly as a black cloud that sprawled over the landscape hesitated before moving on, but no thunderstorms had manifested to that point. They waited, suspensefully, for later in the afternoon. The morning newspaper celebrated the fact that the inflation index had been reduced -- but not affecting food prices. And we had evidence of that in the continuation of rising food prices we saw while shopping. Not so evident in most fresh fruits and vegetables and eggs and milk products which is a good thing.

 

Later, a little bit of time spent in the garden made me wonder at how adept vegetation is at withstanding punishing conditions like the pounding it sustained with those repeated thunderstorms. The flowers and the garden pots look this side of ragged, but when the sun emerges, the wind subsides and the rain quiets down, they'll once again take on their lush beauty and fullness of form to warrant their conceit and our admiration.

 

As soon as Irving awakens in the morning he reaches for a little transistor radio with ear buds sitting on his bedside table. So that when I eventually wake, he can tell me what's top in the news for the day, and above all, the weather for the day. Environment Canada revealed the good news, that the polluted air we've been burdened with will be diminished today. Not eliminated, but diminished. And what will have a hand in that state of affairs was the other part of the weather report; the afternoon would be suffused with a series of thunderstorms.

 

Little wonder the air was so thick and humid. So we decided we'd have breakfast, clean up and get out for an early ravine trot-about in the forest with Jackie and Jillie. They approved, as we knew they would. We were in no great hurry; we'd been enjoying sunshine all the morning while we had breakfast and puttered about. Soon enough clouds moved in, and it was also evident that with the clouds there was another obstacle obscuring the landscape, that smoky haze we've learned to live with. Today though there was little odour of acrid smoke that dominated yesterday.

 

Just as we were moving down the driveway to access the street, there was a low, ominous rumble. As in drat! We proceeded to the ravine and as soon as we entered the forest the haze seemed less prominent, although to be sure, it was evident later looking at photographs I'd taken of our tramp. At ground level wildflowers were happily blooming; daisies, clover, fleabane, pontentilla, blackberry flowers and thimbleberries among them.

 

 

There was a pleasant breeze cutting the heat of the day, challenging the humidity. Through the course of our circuit we came across a few other people enjoying an outing. We tried not to think about more warnings from above, and none were heard. And nor did we encounter a thunderstorm, as we congratulated ourselves for our decision to get out earlier than usual to make certain our puppies wouldn't miss their daily course through the forest trails.

 

 

The prospect of cleaning the house on house-cleaning Monday didn't faze us; it would all get done. And as a conclusion to our outdoor activities on our return home we just had to irresistibly linger awhile in the garden. Rose mallow has taken over part of one of the beds right beside the  road. It's a contest with its sprawl and the much more extensive grab of the now-flowering perennial digitalis. This is the month for roses to bloom and they're living up to their reputation.

 

 

When we eventually got back into the house Jackie and Jillie began to bark. As they do when they hear thunder. It was too dim and distant for us to have taken notice. But that didn't last long. A bare twenty minutes after our return home the sky opened and tipped a veritable lake onto the landscape. Rain heavy enough to form instant puddles on the walkway, driveway, road. And it was darker than dark. The storm eventually exhausted itself and the sun emerged.

 

 

So we had sun for perhaps ten minutes, and then the arrival of another thunderstorm. Dark and dripping, wind blasting heavy sheets of rain directly at the house windows. Then the rain wasted itself and the sun appeared. This pattern of ongoing thunderstorms and brief sunny interludes formed the basis of the afternoon drama this day presented. With luck a similar series of thunderstorms may be helping the firefighting crews to control and eventually douse the wildfires they've been battling for a month.

 

Environment Canada gave us a weather heads-up yesterday advising that the temperature for Sunday would register 30C, and we'd smell the return of that acrid odour from wildfires in Ontario and Quebec, and to expect hazy conditions. They were right and they were wrong, but not in that order. The high for the day turned out to be a tolerable 25C with a nice cooling breeze, but the smoke-haze returned with a vengeance as did the smell of hovering acridity.

 

The air quality index which is usually 3 to 5 in our area during normal times, was at 22 today, with the warning of "health risk". Definitely a problem for people with compromised health, but even those who are healthy, warned the bulletin, could be susceptible to feeling ill effects from the compromised atmosphere. Recommendation that people remain indoors. If required to be outdoors, make it for as short a period as possible, and without physical exertion.

 

So the big question between us today has been 'should we, or shouldn't we'? Jackie and Jillie chimed in with 'why not'??!!! When they sensed the time approaching and when we usually prepare for our venture into the ravine for a hike through the forest trails, they became alert and expectant. 

Irving and I had plenty to do today. And so we puttered the hours away until afternoon. We'd taken our time at breakfast, going through those parts of yesterday's newspapers that we hadn't already read. We had oranges and bananas for breakfast, then breakfast sausages and waffles. I'd let the waffle iron get too hot, distracted and not noticing the control was set at 'high', not the 'medium' I usually use, so it was finicky business separating the batter from the irons, until it occurred to me that I wasn't paying attention.

 

When we finally decided we'd go out with the puppies, we were both a little taken aback at the deep level of the all-encompassing haze that confronted us on the street. Our times in the backyard earlier in the day hadn't prepared us for that. No haze was noticeable in the back, although the acrid odour was inescapable. The atmosphere was grey with haze, and the sun was doing its best to penetrate the haze, largely unsuccessfully.

 

But off we went, up our quiet street to speedily access the ravine entrance. And as soon as we descended the first hill into the ravine, the haze receded; barely noticeable in the forest. Until one looked up, past the tree canopy into the sky to get a glimpse of the sun now and again, behind the haze. It was throwing an orange light wherever it penetrated the tree canopy, that glanced oddly off the trail and tree trunks.

 

Still, at our level, everything looked fairly clear. And it felt perfect for striding through the trails; not too hot at all, the breeze making its way through the forest cooling us. The mosquitoes weren't abundant but for several places where they were their usual nuisance selves. Jackie and Jillie were content to be out, happily sniffing here and there, and looking out for the presence of any of their friends; as it happened, none.

 

Neither of us felt stricken even lightly by the smoke conditions and the diminished air quality. We've had other occasions when we were definitely deleteriously affected by poor air quality, finding it difficult to maintain energy levels to our usual condition, when we stayed over for several days in downtown Toronto. Torontonians-born-and-bred, it's changed mightily since our youth. 

Living in a less populous, green-park city like Ottawa has pampered our lungs with fine air quality. We can certainly empathize with the plight of people living much closer to the areas suffering through wildfires throughout much of Canada, at this time.

 

The world is a strange place, and the human beings that people it make it even more so in a way that nature has little control over. The reverse of humanity having little control over nature. Which is as it should be, for the most part. There's an article in the paper today, that the Economist, in presenting its latest findings on the livability of the world's great cities has given Vienna, Austria, top billing. Judged by the standards of health care, education, stability, culture, infrastructure and the environment.

 

Jews had a prominent place in Vienna's culture, as philanthropists and collectors of art, along with their role as leaders in medicine and science. Vienna now boasts its pride in Sigmund Freud, but in 1938 when the Anschluss was declared, Austria opened its arms to German domination and enacted laws disentitling Jews of their citizenship blocking them from academia, purloining their property and sending them into exile.

 

A cheering crowd greets Adolf Hitler as he enters Vienna. Austria, March 1938. USHMM

Kurt Waldheim, a politician and diplomat who eventually became chancellor of Austria, was a member of the Hitler Youth movement (National Socialist German Students' League), and was involved in war crimes. Before becoming Austrian chancellor, he was elected by the United Nations general body to become UN Secretary-General in 1972.

The world is always in crisis of one kind or another, be it a natural phenomenon whose origins have nothing to do with the machinations of humanity; floods, tornadoes, volcanic eruptions, earthquakes, wildfires; an inferno of never-ending calamities. The major cause of human disruptions, however, remain human actions, where world wars break out, and smaller, deadly conflicts follow. From places in the world as diverse as Darfur, Sudan, to Syria and Ukraine, territorial ambitions and ruthless leaders set the pace.

All of this to say how fortune we are -- we and most of the world's population -- not to have intimately and directly suffered the effects of these dire situations. Aside from the very real fact that we live with the indelible shadow of a collective memory of what humanity is capable of, and mourn the loss of distant relatives who never were given the grace of a future. 

 

Living in security and comfort as we do, we also know that the world is ever in flux, slowly changing around us. What we have assumed to be a permanent way of life, a history and culture that has been stable for generations is changing.

This knowledge doesn't hamper our enjoyment of life in the present. We go about our daily lives, little impacted by the news we read daily out of the rest of the world. A world where migratory aspirations have since time immemorial seen humans arriving on shores not their own, to become their own, eventually changing the face of humanity and the environment it makes its own.

 

Today, our little family enjoyed another hot and humid summer day, the air scrubbed fresh by an all-night rain that brightened the colours of all that surrounds us. A humid day, thick with moisture and warmed by the sun. Where inconsequential little things take our attention. A sudden inclination, looking about the house, to decide to move around paintings hanging on the wall; for a new perspective.

 

An urge, despite the heat, to move about the garden beds in wonder that nature's vegetation is so responsive to its environment that daily there are new surprises. And there is never a lack of pampering the gardens, just to attend to the odd little adjustment here and there, treating the plants just as we do the paintings in the house interior. So snip off old blooms to make way for new ones, tie up wandering tendrils of vines, prop up the long slender spears of lilies with restraints to keep them from falling gracefully from garden to lawn.

 

Above all, look to the exhortations of two little puppies who are certain that the hours of the day are passing too swiftly and when will they ever be given the opportunity to strut along the forest pathways sniffing out intriguing odours, discovering the presence of unrecalled items of curiosity, reminding us they haven't yet had their cookie treats, greeting their friends as they appear in expectation of cookie handouts.

These are the plentifully serene and worthwhile episodes in life that no one should be denied.