We never know what adventures our younger son experiences until he regales us following his constant trips to raw nature. Mid-week he spent a few days kayaking at Sechelt. The daytime high rose to 10C in Vancouver and it was sunny, so off he went for a few days of wilderness camping. It was cold at night, he said, but he made a little campfire in the evenings and the mornings to warm things up a little. And the sun, he said, makes quite a difference, as we well know.

 On his way paddling in to one of the islands in the Georgia Strait, he saw two humpback whales. They were about 400 metres distant, he said, on the opposite side of the island he was heading for. The water was tranquil, there was no wind. They spouted and they dove, and because of the conditions he was able to see and assess their enormous size.

Nothing quite so exciting happens here. After they surfaced, then went under a second time, they didn't reappear. He's never kayaked and camped out there so late in the season, and hasn't seen whales there before. Correction, he has, but at a larger distance, though he could still see their spouts. This time he could actually hear them breathing.

As for us, we're getting much colder daytime temperatures. Last night the temperature dipped to -7C, and today it managed to get up to zero, with little wind. The sun was blazing through the sky, so we thought we'd get out a bit earlier in the afternoon, and I planned to finish the house cleaning on our return. Usually by the time I've completed the cleaning, the best hours of the day are gone, and when we get out to the ravine for our afternoon hike the sun is already setting.

Dusk arrives early in the forest, and it takes no time for it to transform to dark.  On days when we've gone out to the ravine in milder temperatures, around 5C, when we return home it takes forever to clean our puppies' paws. Small as they are, they pick up muddy stains from the forest floor at this time of year. We use warm, slightly soapy water with a sponge as they sit on a towel, to try to clean their paws. 

Usually it's a breeze, but the freeze-and-thaw cycles of frost setting in overnight and milder air thawing the frost during the day creates a clay slush that makes it almost impossible to clean their paws. No problem today, just a single pass and they were clean, unlike Saturday when it took eight swipes to finally get them clean. And their towels bore the brunt of the muck.

Once the snow flies in earnest and remains on the ground that will no longer be a problem. It's one that doesn't exist in the summer. They'll be able to go about normally on the initial snowpack, but once it gets really cold, from about -6C and colder, we'll have to dress them with little rubber boots. Otherwise their tiny feet become numb with the cold and they just stand there, frozen to the snowpack.

 

Today was a beautiful late fall day. Cold, to be sure, but yesterday's penetrating wind was gone and the atmosphere was no longer raw. Although the sun throws feeble heat at this time of  year, it can still be felt like a warm caress when you're directly in its path. The sun, in fact, was so brilliant that even with sunglasses it almost blinded us. Even the sun glinting off the water in the creek had that effect; eye-dazzling.