For the past month at least, we've been enjoying extraordinarily benevolent weather. Ample warmth and sunlight, a little low on rainshowers, and modest wind. A combination that has suited us very well, and which has found favour in the obvious opinion of all of nature's vegetation. Everything has grown generously in proportion, flowering and edible production. Of course, part of that is attributable to the fact that August was an extremely rain-prone month, since we were getting rainshowers and thunderstorms on a daily basis.

 

 

The rain didn't disaccommodate us the least bit, and it enabled plants to gain a good grip, as did ample rain in the spring. The result has been generous harvests throughout summer of soft fruits and later, apples. It's also meant that some plants have gone slightly rogue, especially ground-cover varieties, and they've taken to shoving aside other more orderly plants that don't covet space assigned to others.

 

 

This morning started out warm and night-time temperatures last night didn't fall steeply as they have lately. It didn't take long for the rest of the day to warm  up steeply, and clear skies ensured it would seem even warmer than the projected high of 24C. Because it always seems a little cooler in the shade of the forest canopy we generally dress for that, when we go out for our ravine hikes with Jackie and Jillie. As it turned out, we'd have been better off with short-sleeved tops. It took no time at all for us to realize we were getting warm, and warmer.

 

The first dog that came along to greet us, a well-received acquaintance, was panting wildly from his effort of leaping across from one trail to another to track us down, thanks to Jillie's vocal invitations. Once he received  his assigned two cookies, he dove directly for the creek's cooling water. Which was fine, given that I'd looked in anticipation of seeing the heron in that spot where we'd seen it yesterday, but it was all-clear.

 

We did note that despite how warm it has been, the forest is beginning to show some colour. We've also seen now and again, pine cones in pieces; they'd been carefully picked apart by squirrels accessing their seeds, an annual treat for small wildlife in the forest. Usually the cones are laid down on a flat surface, a rock, an elevated surface of some time, and then disassembled. Looking  up at the crowns of the forest pines it's easy to make out plenty of pine cones waiting to fall. It'll be a fine year for wildlife. Oddly, this year spruce trees haven't produced many of their cones.

 

When we returned home, both of us had ideas of working in the garden. Irving decided to trim some of the branches of the weeping Jade crabapple along with a few other trees which had grown spectacularly the past few years. I meant to do some initial fall cleanup, so we both did our thing, and I collaborated with Irving as well, to clear away the branches, cutting them into smaller pieces and bagging them for compost pickup Tuesday morning.

 

We had changed into lighter -- actually summer  clothing for the tasks we set for ourselves, but even so by the time we were finished a few hours later, we were really warm from the effort and energy expended. And from the satisfaction felt in doing these things rather than procrastinating as would be our usual wont on such a lovely day.

 

The tomato plant we have growing below a corner of our elevated deck has grown to truly gigantic proportions. And its output has been prodigious. For the past several months we've been harvesting tomatoes on a daily basis. When Jackie and Jillie happen to be out with us while we're plucking tomatoes they're anxious not to be forgotten. So we give each of them a tomato. They play with it because it's an intact little oval (grape tomatoes) until finally their teeth puncture the fruit, and that's the signal for them to chow it down.

 

 

In our herb garden in the backyard, there's a luxury of parsley ready for use. During the earlier summer months it was plentiful and I used it so generously there was nothing left. But it regenerated and is now ready for constant use. Tonight, we'll have it decorating and flavouring our Friday-night chicken soup. The flowers are still holding up, given this absolutely wonderful weather we've had all September, warm and sunny with the occasional rain event.

 

 

Our roses like this weather, although they would also do well in slightly colder temperatures. At the front garden and in the back, they're enjoying what is left of a holdover summer into early fall, blooming beautifully. Not all of them, mind, but some of the old standbys. Although the perennials are mostly finished for the season, some things like the Harlequin vines have turned colour for fall, while morning glories are still addicted to blossoming in the sun. 

 

I decided to bake a cheesecake today, and thought I'd supplement the cream cheese in the filling with ricotta, sour cream, eggs and sugar. Along with vanilla flavouring I added brandy, so it'll be interesting to see how much that will influence the finished product.

When we were out in the ravine with Jackie and Jillie this afternoon, it was a strange coincidence that the thought passed my mind that we should be seeing the returning Great Blue Heron that usually drops by for a rest period of a week or so while it is migrating back south for the winter months. And darned, when we approached the creek close to the first bridge, if it wasn't there, standing in the creek, a picture of regal beauty.

 

Until Jillie became aware of its presence, that is, and began her irritatingly eternal barking and the bird rose majestically into the forest canopy. We watched as it was transformed from an awkward-appearing take-off, to a graceful glide over the treetops. We ascended the hill that came next and as we made our way across the broad top, kept looking for the heron. And sure enough, he had temporarily roosted in a tree, and as we passed, he once again flew onward, in the same direction we were headed for.

 

Going back to the creek, Irving said. Eventually we made our way back down from the elevated portion of the forest and we saw in the distance a couple walking by the very point in the creek where we've often seen the heron resting. I wondered if the bird would be there, and as we walked closer along the trail, there he was, looking like a tall stick poking out of the creek.

 

And with our passage, although Jackie and Jillie didn't see the heron this time and simply trotted on before us on the trail, the bird slowly rose out of the water and, flapping its great wings went aloft, turned left, then right, and made off into the distance. I attempted repeatedly to get a photograph of the bird, but to no avail. It moved too quickly and my camera takes its time focusing before it will click the photo.

 

Today is yet another in a month-long series of outstandingly beautiful late-summer-fall days. Although overnight there were cool temperatures of about 7C, by midafternoon today 20C warmed the atmosphere under a brilliant sun. 

 

Only one thing marred the day. The prime minister of Canada making his tardy "unreserved" apology to all those who were blindsided and outraged that a vital member of the Trudeau Liberal cabinet had unwittingly invited an elderly Ukrainian Nazi collaborator, a former officer of an SS Waffen special battalion comprised of Ukrainian volunteers and commanded by German Nazi officers to be present in parliament on a special occasion featuring the presence of Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy on his way to address the House of Commons.

 

Common procedure when people are invited to Parliament, is to ensure that diplomatic protocol is carefully followed. As part of the process, Canada's intelligence agencies and the Parliamentary security agents as well as those of the Privy Council take a careful vetting of individuals to ensure they don't represent a threat to others, much less a potential embarrassment. Somehow, mysteriously, no one had managed to reveal this man's past as a Nazi collaborator, and he was presented with great aplomb to all present, including the Jewish Volodymyr Zelenskyy.

 

The revelation two days later of the man's identity and his presence at such an event, much less as a citizen of Canada, shocked everyone involved, and there were reverberations of amazement and shock internationally that resulted from the rancid incident. That Russia, claiming its invasion had the purpose of cleansing Ukraine of neo-Nazis was given a boost in its invasion of Ukraine is beyond damning. Yet, Justin Trudeau, the unflappable egotist who is never guilty of anything and apologizes only for other peoples' errors in judgement, squarely placed the blame on the hapless Speaker of the House, Anthony Rota.

 

 

Other than that truly sour note, our day went swimmingly in the sense that it was like most other days this month that is coming to an all-too-swift close. Irving and I were busy on household chores. For him, it was removing two little pillars he had put in place before the face of an tall-case clock he had built about 40 years ago, to make it easier to wind the clock. For me, it was laundry day.

 

And for Jackie and Jillie it was a day of wondering why we were taking our time heading out to the ravine in this perfect outdoor day. No excuses. We took full responsibility. And out we went, sun blazing overhead, the atmosphere sufficiently comfortable to make even the lightest of jackets dispensable. Viewed from a distance on approaching the ravine, the forest canopy can be seen to be subtly  in transition to fall.

 

The tops of some of the maples and poplars can be seen to be on the cusp of turning colour. Littering the trails a modest assemblage of bright red, yellow-mottled fallen leaves. Each one a symbol of nature's artistic perfection in the mastery of colour and form.

 

 

On our way to do the grocery shopping yesterday we stopped by the Salvation Army thrift shop first to unload some items. Among them was a tea table with carved skirt and legs and a tray top that we've owned for decades, probably produced around the turn of the century when fine furniture was still being constructed out of good hardwood, and this one was cherry. The people at the Sally Ann will likely put it among special 'gifts' they auction off from time to time. 

Also included was a raft of clothing we no longer wear, and someone will get some use of. It's taken us years to get around to culling things out of our clothing chests and cupboards and gradually we built up several bags full of items to be disposed of. What also joined the trip was a number of books, coffee-table picture books, cookbooks and political tell-alls. And it won't make a dent in all the disposable things we have in this house, bursting with too many things. Still, it's good to get a least some things out and someone will be able to make use of them.

Before we left for our walk in the forest this afternoon, I decided it was time to make over the bedding in our bedroom. Cotton sheets and light blankets were fine during the summer months, but it's really getting cold at night now. And last night was one of those cold nights. So, I thought, enough of this, and out came a set of flannel sheets and over it a light-weight duvet which will do us nicely until winter's arrival and then the winter-weight duvet will grace our bed.

While we were out on the trails later in the day we came across someone we'd known casually as a fellow trail-hiker for many years. Her husband was one of the people we knew who had died prematurely as a result of COVID. Not that he had contracted the coronavirus, but that one of the vaccines used to protect the public against the virus acted so immediately and harmfully to his body that his heart 'exploded' -- in the words of the attending hospital cardiologist.

She surprised us by saying she just bought a cottage. Not really a cottage by her description, more likely a late Victorian house close to a lake in New Brunswick. One of her brothers owns a property right across from hers. It's a place she's very familiar with; vacationing there every summer for the past 40 years. In fact she's originally from New Brunswick. She will likely sell her home here, although her children -- two sons, one married, live here -- and return permanently to New Brunswick. I thought it surprising that she would undertake such a large change in her life at this point, but she does happen to be quite a bit younger than us, so why not?

Although we see her irregularly now, her dog Millie recognized us from a distance and came loping over to say hello long before our friend hoved into sight. Millie wanted to be friendly and greet us, yes, but she was also hankering after the cookies that she knew would be handed out. And while we stood talking, she shared cookies along with two other familiar dogs whose excited barks Jillie had alerted to our presence.

It makes sense to get out and enjoy the out-of-doors on such beautiful early-fall days. When a good warm sweater will suffice for comfort. And the warming sun and light breezes remind us how remarkably pleasant it is to be out. The passage overhead of long vees of geese on their migratory route to southern climes yet another reminder.

It's likely an internally deeply-submerged anxiety about meal preparations that nags me to plan as far ahead as I can for our weekly menus. It probably dates back to the time when we owned our first little house around 1957 in a northern Toronto suburb where even back then it took at least an hour to drive back into the city on a daily commute from Richmond Hill to downtown Toronto where we both had jobs. Planning ahead meant less wear and tear on the mind, and if some elements of a meal could be prepared the night before -- even if it was just to make certain that a raw ingredient was out of the freezer and into the refrigerator for easy handling -- meant we were able to have our evening meal at a decent time to dispel feeling famished after a long day.

The carryover is that, two decades after our retirement from the outside workforce, I still wrack my brains and my memory file of recipes to think of a meal to be handily assembled the following day. On Monday after our ravine walk that followed our weekly house cleaning routine, it occurred to me that I could put together a riff on a savoury pie with different ingredients, as a bit of an experiment.

 

I had read that adding a tablespoon of dehydrated milk crystals to any baked recipe helped to produce a richer tasting product, and I tried it out for the first time when I put together the pastry dough for the pie crust. The result was quite pleasing. I went on to sprinkle grated Parmesan cheese over the crust I'd just lightly introduced for five minutes to a pre-bake. Over the Parmesan cheese went chopped green onions, and over that a layer of sliced tomatoes that had soaked on absorbent paper. Then I chopped fresh basil leaves and laid them over the tomatoes, and covered them with green peas. Atop the layers I poured a batter of ricotta cheese, eggs, salt and pepper. Then popped it all into a little countertop oven to bake at 350F for about 40 minutes. It produced a meal complete in itself, enormously pleasing.

This ongoing weather that seems like a continuation of summer makes a lot of things easier for us, too, in preparation for taking Jackie and Jillie out to the ravine for our daily walks. We can be more casual, have no concern over wearing garments to protect them or us from inclement weather conditions. And it's certainly a lot easier on the garden.

It would be difficult not to notice that both the forest and the garden are undergoing gradual changes. The fullness of green is beginning to recede. In the forest, it's the withdrawal of vegetation on the forest floor, leaving great voids, gaps of bare ground where not so long ago all types of vegetation had flourished. And in the garden more of the soil is being revealed all the time as annuals begin to dry up and perennials lose their fresh appeal.

In the case of both, it is growth-and-flowering fatigue, along with those shorter daylight hours, but more emphatically, nippy night-time temperatures. Both have had a good run this year, and we've enjoyed it ourselves tremendously, admiring the results of nature's bestowal of good growing weather enabling her green creatures to reach great heights of admirable conceit.

In the ravine's forest there is always ample attraction for Jackie and Jillie to meander here and there by odours their sense of smell intrigue them with. Not to speak of the added excitement they undergo by the more visible presence now of squirrels and chipmunks, avidly collecting seeds, nuts and fruits for winter storage. 

Thistles that we thought had finished their flowering over a month ago, have produced a modest new flush of blossoms, irresistible to bees anxious not to miss any opportunities for pollen collection. Whatever berries that were left in an unripe state hanging from shrubs and canes, have either been plucked by the wildlife (and us), or succumbing to the weather conditions, simply dried  up, unripe and unready.

Back at home, in the garden, the form and colour that so delighted us all summer has given way to plants like echinacea fading, and drying, a wan wisp of their former proud beauty. Jackie and Jillie find a treasure-chest-worth of crabapples littering the walk to the porch for them to nibble at leisure. Earlier in the day I had seen not only squirrels and chipmunks carrying them off or pluncking them down on some of the surfaces off the ground to enjoy, but also the arrival of chickadees to do the same.

There are two crabapple trees close to the porch, both Sargentii crabs. Further away beside the driveway there's an ornamental weeping Jade tree and for the past few seasons, it has expanded its girth and its reach greatly, while producing an enormous number of tiny, red crabapples. None of those apples have yet been shed, although I trimmed some of the wayward branches and collected them into compost bags. At one time, in earlier days, they would all have been collected for preserves-preparation, producing crabapple jelly. At one time I did put up peaches, raspberries, strawberries, blueberries, quinces as preserves, jams and jellies....

There's so much happening in the news lately, it's hard to stay off the internet. Our hard-copy legacy newspapers don't seem to be able to keep up with the pace of new news items popping up fairly regularly. Mostly right now, the disturbing news coming out of Canada, revealing time and yet time again that our current federal government's capability to administer the country's affairs have been limping along so badly, they and we by extension, need to be put out of our misery.

It's long past time a new, resolute, reliable and focused replacement for the Liberals led by prime minister Justin Trudeau vacate the PMO and leave Canada to heal from their inept incompetence both within Canada and on the world stage. It just cannot happen soon enough. As it is, it will take a long, long time, before the divisiveness that the politics and policies of Trudeau & Company have created for the country where the provinces' unequal treatment has alienated so many.

That it's been revealed yet again that Canada, over the years has been a safe haven for war criminals dating back to the era of World War Two, and that since then, disaffected, sometimes violent groups have entered Canada to become new citizens, bringing with them the distortions in human relations and government policies elsewhere abroad, using Canada as a stage for verbally and physically assaulting others has created societal dysfunction that is a credit to none.

Terrorist groups that make it to the list that Canada maintains for the purpose of expressing this country's distinction between peaceful protests and violently bloodthirsty actions to achieve an end in countries the world over, saw Canada harbouring fascists who view Canada as an unquestioning safe haven for them to spew their hate, along with followers of Hamas, of the Tamil Tigers, of Khalistanis and Iranian agents with blood on their hands as well as others whose agenda is to create social turmoil and exact their vengeance against the subjects of their propaganda and hate.

Any society has its share of social deviants and psychotic psychopaths to deal with through their justice systems. It is unavoidable that among any population there exists a loud and problematic minority that cause social chaos and criminality causing harm to others. But due diligence in accepting visa applications from known outcasts of other countries and escorting those who lie on their applications about their past to gain entry to Canada, would go a long way to creating a more stable social environment.

Those are the greater issues that bedevil a population, most of whom pay little attention and have no real idea of what happens behind the lines of federal police and arms of the government that engage in intelligence gathering. Canada's current prime minister has proven an utter failure as a capable and trustworthy administrator of the public weal. Canada needs to be rescued from any more of his missteps and arrogance.

 

No, it's not the least bit boring that for the past month at the very least, our weather has been about as close to moderately perfect as can be imagined. Rain, heretofore this summer a daily event, is now sporadic, while we've been enjoying mostly clear skies and daily temperatures that belie the arrival of fall. We've gone seamlessly from a tumultuous spring and early- and mid-summer, to a constant state of fine weather conditions, all the more to enjoy the spontaneity of heading for the outdoors whenever the mood takes us, which is often. 

 

If anything, we're becoming somewhat complacent about this gift from nature. Even though we're in the throes of obvious change where days are notably shorter and we've got fewer daylight hours, along with the fact that though daytime warmth succumbs to night-time chills, we've become reliant on continued good weather, enjoying it while we yet can.

 

The combination of Goldilocks temperatures and early morning sun continue to captivate Jackie and Jillie, leading them to ask us every morning to move the sliding doors so they can settle down in the sun on the deck. Until their dark haircoats have attracted enough warmth from the heat of the morning sun to make them begin feeling a tad uncomfortable, when the request to open the door for them takes the reverse position.

 

The garden -- what's left of it, is flourishing once again, the annuals looking radiantly colourful, happily blooming, though in the past several weeks some of them succumbed and were removed. Roses are not yet finished with blooming this year, several of the shrubs are producing fresh new blooms and they're delightful to welcome anew.

 

In the ravine, wildflowers that we assumed had taken their leave with arriving fall, have surprised us with random resurgences. Pilotweed, that first began blooming at the end of June, is once again sending up new flowers to crown their long, tall stems, some of them towering over my height. A few thistles on the forest floor have put out new, bright pink flowers, enormously pleasing to pollen-gathering bees.

 

The warmth has awakened flying creatures, not only birds flitting down to the running water of the forest creek, but gnats in their thousands, catching the sun and glittering and gleaming flying before our eyes. Yesterday we heard not only chickadees and nuthatches, but a raven, its thick, loudly rasping guttural voice distinctively not crow-like. There were, though, flocks of crows flying about yesterday, not so much in the ravine, but dive-bombing on the street, for some unknown reason.

 

The atmosphere in the forest is quiet and placid, a place of comfort and anticipation, as discrete signs of fall begin to appear. Vegetation growing thickly on the forest floor, has been in steep decline, drying up and being reabsorbed into the soil. Some maple saplings and sumacs have begun to turn fiery red, though the tree canopy remains obdurately bright green.

 

Back home, the garden walkway that I had carefully swept of fallen, desiccated leaves from overhanging trees, and the fruit of the crabapple trees are once again beginning to accumulate tiny apples, and on our return home from the forest, Jackie and Jillie make a beeline for the walk to see what's available for a few munches.

 

I often reserve Saturdays for garden work. Because it's a treat, in my opinion, spending time out in the garden. Shorter spurts of time are fine now and again, tidying up the garden, but Saturdays I can devote hours to it, and it's exhilarating. While I was doing that today, one of our neighbours whom I've known for decades walked by with another neighbour's little dog that she's dog-sitting for several weeks, wanting to chat. A half-hour is more than she can spare, she said, working in the garden at any one time before her enthusiasm wanes. How long do I spend doing that? she asked.

 

 

As long as it takes, I responded. Given that ours is a large garden in a small property that needs constant (albeit relatively light) attention. Suzanne never grew much of a garden, but she enjoys ours every time she walks past. She has more than enough to do herself, looking after a house on her own, ever since her husband, quite a bit older than her, died just over year ago.

 

 

Irving was out while I was in the garden, doing some shopping. He had quite a few stops to make. He had seen an advertisement for a waffle iron on sale, and since I've become fairly devoted to making Sunday waffles, we needed a replacement for our hoary old one that had given up the ghost last Sunday.  We also needed more compost bags, because I used the last two -- those giant compostable bags that are collected every week by the municipality -- and we'll need a whole lot more before the garden is put to sleep for winter. He returned just as I was finishing up watering the gardens, garden pots and urns.

 

We'd gone out much earlier to the ravine, on a superb fall day, warm and sunny. Irving had prepared two bags full of various types of doggy cookies for our hike. As the day was so lovely we decided we'd stay out longer than usual and enlarge our circuit through the network of trails in the forest. Jackie and Jillie were all for it. Jillie kept calling her friends over; we'd see no one and suddenly a familiar dog would appear long before his/her human toddled along, eager to say hello and chomp down cookies.

 

On one of the trails we came across a newly fallen tree, not quite across the trail, but partially, and it reminded us that now and again in the past few years we've experienced some quite unusually harsh weather events that had taken their toll of the trees in the ravine and forest. In fact, there are many trees that were uprooted and/or cracked by micro tornadoes, blasting winds and heavy rains and they lie on the forest floor, silent witness to benign nature suddenly becoming ferociously angry.\

 

In the area of the forest where there are a number of old wild apple trees, red ripe or bright green transparent apples hang, just out of reach. Since ripe berries are no longer available any longer to treat Jackie and Jillie with, apples become an alternative, and they're quite agreeable to enjoying the fresh sweet/sour crunch Irving doles out to them.

 

By the time we wound up our tramp through the woods, almost two hours had passed. And we felt we'd been well exercised, all of us. An equal amount of time was spent not long afterward in the garden. It feels so compelling to do all the little tasks the garden invites, that it doesn't seem tiring, the emphasis is on feeling the satisfaction of 'catching up' to the garden's enthusiastic growth spurts.