There are summer days of such splendid perfection they absolutely refuse to be treated just like any other day. Some people responding to the allure of a perfect summer day, dream about spending it at a beach. Our preference is a good, long hike through forest trails. There was a time when we'd combine that with canoeing on a lake where hiking trails spiralled out of the area, and a full day could be spent outdoors, including an evening picnic meal. 

 

 

On the lake, the slap of a beaver's tail, the call of a loon and the sight of a Great Blue Heron rising from the edge of the water, gave us a double reward. There were times when we hauled the canoe out of a lake and watched as a deer reached up to grasp fruit from a wild apple tree. We no longer travel the relatively short distance to those semi-wilderness areas, content with visiting the forested ravine accessed across the street from our home on a quiet urban street.

 

Because it was such a perfect day -- generous cooling breezes under wide blue skies and a temperature reaching toward hot, that the forest canopy pleasantly moderated for us, we held a short consultation with our two little dogs whose enthusiasm clarified their willingness to remain out longer than usual in the forest by prolonging the circuit we generally take on off-branch trails. Although we haven't seen very many people and their dogs out lately, attributable, we think, to ubiquitous mosquitoes, muddy trails, overcast skies and pop-up rain events, this time was different.

 

 

It was a busy morning, Irving mowed the grass in the backyard and I baked a batch of gingerbread crispy cookies favoured by our older son, with plans to bake a batch of chocolate-chip cookies for our daughter-in-law who finds them irresistible, so that when they arrive on Monday there'll be goodies to greet them with. They may both be in their 60s now, but there's something about children, no matter their age, and cookies fresh out of a mother's baking agenda that never fails to appeal.

 

 

By the time we set out for the ravine it was still early afternoon, and it was just as well that Irving stocked up on dog cookies before we left, for we came across quite a few old friends who know him as the 'Cookie Man' and made a beeline for him, leaving their human companions for as long as it takes to chomp down on a few cookies each before resuming their own hike on other trails.

 

We also picked countless purple raspberries, sweet and ripe, for Jackie and Jillie whose enthusiasm for the fruit particularly on hot days, knows no bounds. Jackie has learned that he can reach up to the low-hanging fruit to avail himself of their sweet abundance, though he prefers we do the picking work and proffer the results in our outstretched palms. Although we've been picking ripe Thimbleberries for weeks, the shrubs are still flowering.

 

We were a little surprised when we doubled back on our circuit to pass by the forest creek, finding that the zip line several young men had installed from ridge to ridge of the ravine's treeline was still intact. And to see that the taut line was in use by an acrobat-inclined 'zipper', who might, for all we knew, have been practising for Cirque du Soleil. From the near distance it appeared to us that whoever that individual was, he was taking spectacular chances. He did appear to be enjoying himself tremendously, but that line's height from point A to point B was substantial. The creek and its banks are lined with large jagged granite rocks. At one point he even indulged in some trapeze-like moves, including a brief stint of tightrope-walking.

 

We were out for close to two hours, and grateful to sit quietly in the garden afterward, enjoying being among the blooming plants, their colour, texture and form a never-ending visual treat. It occurred to me that it had been quite a while since any of the many garden pots had been fertilized, so while Irving sat and watched I set about sprinkling fertilizer and watering it in to our miniature gardens-in-pots.