For a change, the weather prognosis for today was wrong, and we were glad. Instead of another day of rain, we had occasional bursts of sun freeing itself from the general cloud cover and at a daytime temperature of 20C, that made for a balmy day. Thursdays are busy with laundry but that didn't keep me from inviting Jackie and Jillie out to the backyard for occasional garden inspections. Peonies are beginning to come up, so are the lilies and the irises. Although the magnolia trees are full of flower buds they seem in no great hurry to bloom, and the crabapple trees may very well beat them at it.

 

 

I've been digging weeds out of the grass and the garden plots, and just when I think I've got the last one, a day or two later a few more arrogantly confront me -- and out they come! Jillie likes to sit on the deck when I'm out with her, so she can bark at any sound or movement she detects. Jackie has a tendency to follow me around, curious about what I'm doing. Several days ago when I went out with them to the backyard, the hare was sitting beside the smaller of the two garden sheds. Neither Jackie nor Jillie detected its presence, so for the short time we were outside, the hare just sat there; alert but seemingly comfortable.

 

Early this afternoon when we entered the forest and were about to descend into the ravine, our eyes were caught by the presence of a bird with a bright red cap. Just a little fellow; we were in quite close proximity to it, and it appeared unconcerned. We watched as he (the female of the species doesn't wear a red cap) flew from tree to tree, then settled on a fallen log. Hairy woodpeckers are not an unusual sight in the forest, but when they're this bold and we can see them from close range, we can admire their beauty.

 

 

A warm day, as it turned out, so that was pleasant. Much less the muck underfoot, fine on some parts of the trail, but an impediment to complete relaxation on others, as we gingerly made our way off-trail when the dark slush became too prevalent and deep. But these are the conditions that early spring-flowering wildflowers revel in, and we came across a large number of trout lilies blooming in colonies throughout the forest.

 

A week earlier on a similar weather-day; mostly overcast and a little cooler, there were scant few trilliums to be seen flowering. A different story altogether, today. Trilliums galore, casting their bright crimson petals to the illuminating light of the sun. We did a brief side-tour down one of the hillsides to see whether a small patch of white trilliums that we see year after year were yet in residence, but it was too early for their presence; we'll give them another several weeks.

 

At another short trail we paused briefly, knowing where an unusual trillium usually shows up, doubting that it would be there, but there it was, a smaller incarnation than we've been accustomed to seeing, but blooming nonetheless, its petals pale pink and beautifully striped. Its flowerhead bowed deeply toward the forest floor, a dainty, tiny plant, relatively rare and highly appreciated.

 

 

Because it was such a beautiful day we had decided to take a longer circuit than we usually do, and so we went along a network of trails, enjoying the temperature and a calming, cooling breeze. Whenever the sun did emerge for brief periods, it was warm enough wherever we were exposed so that I could feel a light halo of moisture along my hairline above my forehead. 

 

And from time to time we entertained visitors. Dogs little and large. All well-behaved, eager to be noticed and recognized and their message interpreted accurately: we're here, your fans, come to say hello, and patiently waiting for you to withdraw that bag you always fill before departing your house, just in case we happen to drop by -- which we very much appreciate, and thank you for, Cookie Man!

 

Just shortly before we left the forest, on our way to street level, we were more than a little surprised to see white blossoms on several small trees in the understory under the forest canopy. The tiny white blossoms, similar in shape to small daisies, would bear fruit in midsummer. They're known as Saskatoon berries, an early blooming fruit-bearing tree.