The thick, overheated stagnancy of the heat dome that has dominated this area for the past week finally has abated. Instead of 32+C, we're now in the relief of a reasonable 20C atmosphere. Even the sometimes-brisk wind that accompanied those high temperatures did little to moderate the smothering heat. And for those days out we went before breakfast with Jackie and Jillie to get in an early morning walk for them through the forest. They seemed puzzled about the change of routine, and it did seem strange not to head out in the afternoon for the forest. But as long as they were given their salad as their afternoon treat they were fine with it.

 

 

The vegetation in the forest and the garden was being sorely tested. On the one hand this spring has seen growing conditions that plants of all kinds responded to with great enthusiasm. Growth spurts have been phenomenal, and so has the blooming of plants, offering us visual treats of bright beauty in a bounty of gratitude.  For the past several days it's been different; the heat and the burning sun has produced a setback in that fresh garden appearance that even watering did not dissipate. 

 

 

No need for an early morning trot through the forest for Jackie and Jillie today. Given the cooler weather we could take our time. To a degree, since the time slot between 2:00 p.m. and 6:00 p.m. was reserved for a technician to check the bill of health of our air conditioner, the second and longest-lasting this house has had in its 35 years of existence. So we went out with them at 1:00 p.m., got hung up talking a bit too long with neighbours, but managed to return home before 2:00 anyway.

 

 

I had wracked my mental baking file earlier in the day to think of a baked dessert for today, and finally remembered I hadn't baked a jellyroll in quite a long time. Since we've got fresh strawberries I thought slicing them and filling a vanilla jellyroll with the fruit and with jam under the fruit would be fine. The sponge is easy enough: 1 cup of cake and pastry flour, 2 tsp. baking powder, 1/4 tsp.salt, 3 large eggs, 1/4 c. cold water, 3/4 cup of granulated sugar, and a tsp. of vanilla. Spread over waxed paper in a cookie tin, it bakes for only 12 to 14 minutes in a hot oven. Then it's turned out on another sheet of waxpaper sprinkled with sugar, sitting atop a tea towel. Gentle care required in pulling off the waxed paper the roll baked on, then it's rolled up inside the towel to cool. Once it's cool, it's unrolled, spread with strawberry jam, then the sliced strawberries. Done. 

 

We came across the latest of the dogwalkers that we've known through our years in the ravine, and he's absolutely the best one; the others have moved on to other concerns. This fellow can walk a dozen dogs of all breeds, sizes and  temperaments without problems arising. He's sensitive to the dogs and their needs and proclivities and they obey him instantly. If he's got a new dog, he keeps it on leash until it familiarizes itself with routine. They all seem to thrive, they're all lively and invested in their opportunity to enjoy the forest and they're all well behaved. More than I can say for our two, whose barking they ignore.

 

We were taken aback just as we were winding up our circuit, to see a bench had been installed close to a bank of the creek, not far from the last of the bridges we cross to clamber  up the last hill to street level. The bench was different from the crude types that had been installed in a few places many years ago. And this one had a plaque on it in memory of someone. I realized who that someone was, with shock. A genial, past-middle-age man who we used to greet in passing on occasion in the summer months when we'd venture out on early mornings to avoid afternoon heat.

We knew him by reputation, as someone who seriously practised civic altruism. Not a dog owner himself, he had established garbage bins at every entrance to the ravine throughout the larger community, for dog droppings to be deposited. He bought garbage bags and weekly collected the full ones, placed out new ones, and hauled the full ones to the street curbs for collection on garbage days. Since garbage collection days varied with the locations in a spread-out community, he had daily chores, to maintain his schedule.

 

Once, years ago, one of the regular hikers through the ravine, who had three dogs of their own, notified the community by email and notes placed in the ravine that they were taking up a collection to express gratitude for this man's tireless efforts on behalf of the dog-walking community. That was so long ago I don't even recall what the gift was, but the giftee demurred while thanking us all.

About five years ago we had heard he wasn't well. Others stepped forward to continue his gift to the community at large and collections continued of dog waste to keep the trails as free of waste-detritus as possible. Obviously, the cancer he was diagnosed with took the life of this generous man. And it felt to  us like a shock in the otherwise-tranquil setting. A mood of sadness and regret is inevitable under such circumstances. And then of course, you carry on...