What an unexpected change today has been from the cooler, most often wetter weather we've been experiencing lately in this season of mid-Fall. Yesterday's frigid atmosphere has become today's almost tropical-in-comparison day of much-appreciated warmth. It was not only we who marvelled at the  change of weather and took advantage of it. We noted swarms of Ladybugs flying about, landing on the sides of the house, the garden sheds, and the sliding door screens -- their ambition clearly to enter the even greater warmth of the house interior.

Irving decided to take advantage of the 19C temp and full sun to proceed with his already-started preparations to repaint the outdoor windowsills. Scraping away the old, flaked paint, checking to  determine the state of the wooden sills for remediation work as required.  As he worked outside on a ladder leaning against the house, kamikaze ladybugs kept flying into him. Jackie and I did some reconnoitering around the back to pick up and store some garden items away for the winter months in the garden sheds.

For dinner last night, in view of how cold it was, I had prepared a bread dough with the intention of baking croissants. For something a little different I used what would normally be an egg-loaf dough, adding grated old cheddar, herbs and sesame seeds and rolled it all out into croissants to accompany the vegetable-barley soup I planned for dinner. Hardly expecting that the day to follow would be one where a summertime salad would be more appropriate. 

When we were both finished with our household chores, we informed an ecstatic Jackie that yes indeed, it was time for our ravine walk. The forecast is for a number of days to follow to continue this warming streak, so Irving will use another day such as this to continue with his window-painting project. And I will wait for a true frost before finally extracting the annuals for compost while completing my own fall garden chores. 

At this time of year -- Thanksgiving -- when families gather to spend time together in a shared harvest meal of gratitude, another component of sharing often occurs, and it's when we frequently see members of the greater extended community venturing forth into the ravine introducing children to seasonal nature. Families comprised of grandparents, their children and their children's children and the family pets weave a procession through the forest trails, as though in a kind of yearly ritual. 

And so it was that we encountered far more people out on the trails -- expectedly -- than we normally would, and enjoyed a number of very genial conversations with others whom we don't normally see in the ravine. Jackie, in his turn, was fairly well taken by surprise at the sight of unfamiliar dogs and possibly far more, to find himself in the company of young children taking advantage of an opportunity to explore the unfamiliarity of a forest landscape.

Such an utterly pleasant day that could elicit complaints from no one, is well shared by a community. There are people, including householders with dog companions who have never set foot into the forest with their dependents, having obviously no interest whatever in relaxing in a leisurely shuffle through woodland trails steeped deep in pine needles and birch, poplar, beech and maple foliage fluttering down from the forest canopy.  

 

What a gorgeous fall day this has been! Cool, granted, but that wide blue ceiling and the bright chandelier hanging within, warmed the day nicely. And with little wind, the cool temperature not all that noticeable when you're busy toddling along on forest trails. Which is precisely what we did, as is our usual, haunting our nearby forest with our presence. Jackie, our little companion would not have it, otherwise, anxious as he is to get out for his very important Doglish sniff-fests.

 

Last night's frost left the morning roofs steeped deep in hoar frost. As it melted under the sun, the eavestroughs dripped steadily. None of the annuals were touched by the frost; they remain crisp, bright and colourful. The result of all that rain the day before, which helped them to resist the effect of the cold atmosphere. And which gives us another few days or so to continue enjoying them.

 

Irving went out on a few errands after breakfast, so Jackie and I repaired to the backyard for some yardwork. I feel comfortable with him being around in the backyard since he cannot wander out on the street given the all-encompassing fence and gate. He doesn't particularly enjoy being out of doors unless it's sniffing his way through the forest trails. In the backyard I continued to cut back perennials that I hadn't done the first time around. And from there I moved to the side of the house where the narrow shade garden hosts a company of more hostas.

 

It took no time at all to fill up multiple compost bags. But I was able to complete the task I set for myself by the time Irving returned. And then we prepared for our usual tramp through the forest. Despite the beauty of the day we saw only two people with their companion dog through the entire circuit we took. The kind of people, though we've only seen them once or twice before, with whom it's a distinct pleasure to pause and engage in a casual conversation, relaxed and mutually pleasant in nature.

 

 

Birds are moving through in numbers now, not just through the forest, but in our garden as well. We still hear the occasional honking of Canada geese taking on their yearly migration south; sometimes they fly above a low cloud cover and it's only their nostalgic chorus that identifies their fleeting presence. At other times we watch that famous Vee formation for as long as it takes for them to disappear from sight again.

 

 

Alongside the foliage fallen from the forest canopy there's no end of detritus that has come down, bits of cellulose discarded from healthy branches that tend to adhere to various parts of a tree on their way down, that bursts of wind and rain eventually dislodge and bring to the forest floor. Larger parts of decaying limbs are favourites of some large dogs with their tendency to 'own' them while prancing through the woods, a sight that never fails to impress, for the size of the branch that some dogs' jaws can accommodate, occasionally as wide as the trails themselves.

 

There is a sense of completeness to the day following our ravine walks. When for some reason on the rare occasion we miss a day going out to the ravine, we feel deprived, and we certainly feel badly for Jackie who so much looks forward to his daily venture. His usual routine these days is on our return home to head straight for the front garden under the Jackmanii crabapple tree to look for tiny ripe red fallen crabapples. There, he munches on a few. And when we enter the  house he's anxious for his usual chopped vegetable salad afternoon treat, pre-dinnertime.

 

 

 

Autumn Days in the Forest

Dogwood changing colour in the forest understory

We're so much creatures of the weather. Now well into Fall, we never know what each succeeding day will be like. Occasionally they're days of extreme contrasts. Yesterday morning found us with quite a cold day, going from 4C all the way up to a chilly 11C. But we had morning sun. It didn't last beyond several appreciated hours while it easily penetrated our large stained glass windows and speedily warmed up the house interior. Suddenly dark-grey-streaked clouds appeared on the far horizon and wind brought them speedily to a closer approach until we were inundated with heavy rain. 

We weren't, in any event, planning to go anywhere at that time. So I thought I'd put together the ingredients for an apple strudel. I hadn't baked one in ages. I decided to chop up some maraschino cherries and candied ginger into the apples and that worked out fine. Friday night dinners are always a theme on the familiar, a cultural focus on chicken soup and chicken cooked in various ways to stir up appetite.

Irving did some light vacuuming, and Jackie got increasingly impatient to get out for a walk through the forest trails in the ravine. By mid-afternoon the rain appeared to be lightening, so we geared up in rain jackets bearing in mind the cold, wind and rain perhaps yet to come. So weren't we surprised exiting the house to see the sky completely blue, and the sun making a concerted effort to dry the landscape! It felt somewhat excessive as the day began to warm to be wearing rain gear, but off we went.

More foliage and pine needles had fallen under the influence of the wind gusts and heavy rain, making the trails brightly coloured from fallen poplar and maple and pine. It will be a good year for the forest denizens, ample pine, hemlock and spruce cones litter the forest floor. We're now seeing, black, grey and red squirrels dashing about, busily collecting winter-storage caches, along with the occasional chipmunk. Birds are passing through from the Boreal forest; returning chickadees and nuthatches. Cardinals and robins and the occasional flock of doves and the everpresent crows.

 

We came across quite a few of Jackie's friends, who somehow sense our presence though they're elsewhere on the forest trail network. They suddenly appear before us, exciting Jackie to the prospect of himself cadging more cookies. Our visitors calmly park themselves before Irving, who pats their heads and rummages about in his shoulder pack for their rewards. Three large cookies for each large dog, and small ones for smaller dogs.

 

 

There's infinitely more colour on the forest floor than one sees looking about at the surrounding trees. Unless viewing the forest canopy from a distance or a height, it's easy to miss the presence of Fall colours; in some areas the preponderance of conifers with their bright greens tend to camouflage the presence of birch, wild apple trees, hawthorns, but the staghorn sumac stand out unmistakably with their bright crimson Autumn foliage.

 

As we approached the end of our circuit through the forest, despite the bright blue seen through the forest canopy we became aware of light rain droplets. Disbelievingly, yet convinced we were in for a downpour, we made our way up the last of the ascents toward street level, and once gained, realized that the sky was rapidly being transformed. Looking to the West, dark clouds were swiftly take precedence over the wide blue viewed from the East, as the wind reversed its usual east-to-west trajectory.

 

 

We reached home just as the light version became a heavy downpour. Our garden, which has given us so much pleasure throughout spring, summer and early fall is in the stages of decomposition at my hands. Two days earlier I had filled four giant compost bags with Hosta foliage. I still have plenty of hostas in our shade garden at the side of the house to be cut back. I'll leave the annuals in their urns and garden pots until a hard frost assails them. All the rain we had yesterday helped them to survive last night's frost that left the  house roofs white with hoar frost.