In a stretch of beautiful days today seems to be the cap; still beautiful, ample sun, but substantially cooler than it was yesterday, the wind bellowing through the landscape. Not a day to rake up leaves, so just as well that was done on the weekend. Irving was out again after breakfast wrapping up as it were the last of his exterior tasks pre-winter arrival. The air conditioner and the barbeque have been securely  bundled up, meant to help them survive the rigors of icy wind, piles of built-up snow and temperature snap-changes, so it was tarps all around, including over the largest of our garden urns sitting on top of the rock garden.

It's pretty depressing looking at the garden. I took a few photographs to see if there was anything that a picture could show that might redeem the stark, drab appearance of the beds and borders shed of their form, texture and colour and there was not. Just the last of the garden furniture has to be tucked into the big garden shed and then we can look forward to getting out the winter shovels.

Irving made appointments at a nearby garage to have both vehicles winter-proofed against rust. In this climate, with the kind of winters we get -- sustained cold and a build-up of heavy snow and ice on roads  -- if motor vehicles fail to get their undersides coated with oil, the salt thrown down on the roads to melt ice and restore traction to vehicles ultimately results in rusted-out car and truck bodies. That oil treatment is insurance against allowing vehicles to have a shortened lifespan.

Today was cleaning day and I was curious about whether I'd have to resort to wrapping a sponge over my right knee as I've had to do for the past month, since the time I had a fall in the ravine that tore quite deeply into the surface of my kneecap. But it was fine, no discomfort at all kneeling on the floor, so I was able to discard the sponge and have a lot more freedom and ease of movement, washing the floors.

Yesterday's dinnertime croissants that accompanied our lentil-vegetable soup gave us lefltovers that will be useful for a few breakfasts. The croissants lend themselves to being thinly sliced and toasted so they're crisp while still layered and flaky, and spread with smoked-salmon cream cheese they're quite excellent. That's the thing about meals, if there are leftovers you can always envision another purpose for them.

It's discomfiting becoming accustomed all over again to the time change. Although we adjusted most of the clocks, we left several at the old time. I feel it helps give me a better grasp on comparing our usual time to the new 'laid back' time. At least until we completely adjust to it. For the time being and perhaps for the first week or so we tend to continue our usual routine linked to the old time until we gradually slide into the new one. 

We had little option but to return to wearing jackets and to put little snug sweaters back on Jackie and Jillie. Yesterday's high temperature of 22C, with a gentle wind seemed incredibly warm despite it was mostly overcast. Today's bright sun failed to dispel the winter feeling brought to us via 12C -- cooled off even more by a truly belligerent wind, gusting loudly through the forest.

Once we tucked ourselves into the ravine, the windy cold that pushed us forward up at street level had moderated considerably and our jaunt through the forest trails became infinitely more pleasant as a result. Jackie and Jillie don't mind they're once again dressed against the cold. Watching the behaviour of other dogs in the ravine it's hard to determine whether they have a care in the world with respect to the weather conditions found in the forest day after day.Clearly, they feel nature should be allowed to weather her own nest how and when she pleases. We won't argue with them.

Who doesn't have a leftover-childhood affection for ladybugs? As bugs and beetles go they're attractive with their bright orange, polka-dotted shells. Most children quickly learned that little childhood rhyme: "Ladybug, ladybug, fly away home, your house is on fire and your children will burn" . These ladybugs don't respond, but at this time of year they instinctively head for house interiors. They cling to screens and windows and doors for the opportunity to enter. Irving doesn't care to disturb insects. Last night he showed me one resting in the laundry room on top of the washer. It was still there this morning.

 

They cannot survive winter. Irving hypothesizes that they enter warm places for comfort and to prolong their lives, but they're destined to expire anyway. So this morning he carefully picked the little fellow up and instead of putting it outdoors he took it into the dining room and perched it on the window sheers where it seems perfectly happy. When it dies, then and only then will Irving put it outside. He's like that with creatures we see in the ravine; if they're on the trail he'll help them off it, lest they be crushed underfoot.

 

As adults we know they're useful in the garden. Eating garden pests we'd rather not have munching on our roses like aphids for example. So, it's live and let live with our ladybug population.

 

I'd thought this glorious weather we're basking in would be finished by today, but no, another day of warmth as our due. It had rained at some point overnight, so when we came downstairs for breakfast it was to a wet, warm, overcast morning with gusting winds. Couldn't be more pleasant for working outside. Which was where Irving went directly after breakfast to finish placing wood discs over the garden pots so that the snowpack wouldn't weigh down the plastic he's covered them with for preservation purposes.

 

He had dutifully turned back the clock, and in the process we earned another hour in the day. Which we'll lose in spring, of course. Which also means that we'll have to become accustomed to the day seeming even shorter to us when dusk and then dark fall at 4:30 p.m. now, instead of 5:30 p.m. What a trade-off! We won't be getting up any earlier in the morning to take advantage of earlier daylight, either.

Jackie and Jillie corralled us for an afternoon hike through the ravine at the 'new' time slot. The sun had come out briefly, but then clouds settled back in and it became dark enough to presage rain which had been forecasted. Gusting wind had taken down completely any stray, stubborn foliage that insisted on clinging to their mother-tree. The only pops of colour now appear on immature dogwood.

 

Our all-encompassing green world has retired for the next five or six months. That's how long winter lasts in this northern hemisphere. It's amazing, really, how quickly our eyes become accustomed to recognizing a different landscape altogether, and disconcerting as well to see how far we can peer into the forest and beyond in the absence of the screening foliage . Trails on the perimeter of the ravine meandering directly behind the community now give us views of the backs of houses, entirely dispelling the conceit that we're in the middle of an isolated forest, deep in nature's preserves.

 

 

We can still continue to harbour that illusion, however, when we're in the depths of the ravine, distant from those periphery-buildings, to retain the comfortable fiction of living close to nature, even if we in fact, do so, with however, the interruption of the reality that this is an urban forest. Where anyone can even get lost, losing their bearings on the trails if they're not accustomed to the trails and where they connect and end up.

 

 When we arrived back home I rolled out some bread dough I had pre-prepared and refrigerated to bake crisp croissants sprinkled with sesame seed and filled with grated cheddar cheese as an accompaniment to the simmering lentil-tomato-yam soup I had put on to cook while we were out. It's comfort food for cold days, but will be welcome on any day.

 

Today, another generous gift -- and likely the final one before the onslaught of winter --from Mother Nature. The high temperature this afternoon was 21C, absolutely balmy; almost tropical, our minds tell us. Too warm for jackets for any of us. A delightful breeze and now and again the sun breaking through a light cloud cover. What to do with this beautiful day? 

 

For us, the obvious answer is to get out into the forest and make the most of the warmth and the gentle breeze that accentuated it. The forest remains a sea of colourful foliage laid down on the forest floor. Depending on the deciduous trees dominating any given area, the emphasis of the leaf mass can be warm browns, golds or gold mixed with pinks. The entire mass viewed with filtered light caressing it looks like parchment.

 

 

Jackie and Jillie, free to wander where they will, as long as they remain in sight, amble about here and there, sniffing here, shuffling up the leaves over there, alert to a squirrel in the opposite direction.  Now and again greeting friends, or welcoming new ones. Like the Great Dane that came into view and was briefly and mildly interested in our two little shrimps. The Dane was just about the size of a doe and almost as graceful, its coat sleek, its chest deep and muscular.

 

We stopped briefly by the skeleton of a dead Ash tree. A remnant of the once-thriving Ashes growing in the forest until the arrival of the Emerald Ash borer that within a few years destroyed the trees. Many of them were cut down, many others left standing, silent sentinels reproaching nature. A few of those trees left for dead began to develop 'branches' some three feet up the trunk of the tree, well below the dead crown. The 'branches grew rapidly, a dozen or more encircling the trunk; the tree making an effort through its still-living roots to prolong its existence.

 

It occurred to us that we might soon see manifestations in the forest of the just-past Halloween. And sure enough, down one of the hilly slopes there lay a pumpkin, rolled from the height upon which we stood down to a densely treed sloped 'valley' of the ravine. It's possible some animals will find nutrition in the pulpy flesh of the gourd. In the winter it will freeze, when spring arrives it will begin the process of serious decay and become part of the forest compost.

 

After our hike through the forest trails, it was time to apply ourselves to finishing up preparing the garden for winter. There were still several garden pots to be emptied; a wheel-barrow-full of garden soil to trundle over to the backyard and spread out on the garden beds there. Then the lawn was raked of its fallen leaves. And finally Irving mowed the grass for the last time before winter's arrival. 

We're destined to slip from today's 21C to a high of 9C in the following few days. In our experience by the time Remembrance Day comes arouund on the 11th, so too will the first of the coming season's snow flurries.

 

Thoughts and memories of November are invariably of a dismal, dark and wet month. So miserable that we pine for winter to arrive and November to be gone. The sun usually absents its presence in November's stormy skies. The days are short, windy, cold and dark. Well, there are always exceptions to any generalization. Here we are, in the first week of November and the sun has unfailingly taken over the sky, banishing clouds with warm temperatures prevailing and gentle winds. Today was the warmest yet, reaching 20C. Night-time temperatures are another story altogether.

 

 

Cooling off in the evening hours still calls for comfort food. And that's the kind of dinner we had yesterday, although who ever thinks of a fish dinner as being comfort food. When it's hot and savoury, brimming with texture, colour, fragrance and flavour it's comfort food. And my version of Paella fits that bill. Lots of vegetables, garlic, onion, tomato, bell pepper, parsley, green peas. And oh yes, of course, fish. And rice, let's not forget the rice, and to liven it all up, hot smoked paprika and saffron. I worried it might be a little too hot this time for Irving's taste, but to my bemusement and satisfaction he cleaned up his plate.

 

I'm always a bit challenged to think of what I can bake that's a little different for dessert on Friday. That's the one day I'm certain to do some baking. When the children were  young that became a tradition; desserts following every meal; now they're reduced to once a week, since it's just the two of us. It occurred to me that 'Butterfly cupcakes' would be a different treat. I haven't baked them in ages. So, that's what I did. The recipe is simple and all in my memory bank.

First came the cupcakes, a simple vanilla cupcake recipe with few ingredients; Becel margarine, granulated sugar, eggs, sour cream, vanilla flavouring, cake and pastry flour, baking powder, a dash of salt. Once they were baked and cooled off, I made a simple icing of margarine, icing sugar, vanilla. And simmered a pint of fresh blueberries with water,sugar, and cornstarch, then added butter and almond flavouring when it cooled.

I sliced the tops off the cupcakes and dolloped the cooled blueberries over the cupcakes, then slathered icing sugar over the sliced tops, cut each in half and perched the two pieces atop the blueberries to complete the butterfly effect. Visually attractive, lots of fun to put together and even more fun eating it. It's a treat of a treat.

 

Earlier, I had taken down the drapery sheers hanging over our bedroom windows. It occurred to me that fall was a better time to wash curtains than spring. After all, during the summer months windows are flung wide open and curtains are introduced to dust and all kinds of pollen and other floaters-through-the-air. It took no time to re-hang them, now I have to think of doing all the others in dining room, living room, family room....

 

 

We did get out to the ravine earlier than usual. An irresistible day of sun and warmth. The temperature, after last night's light frost nudged all the way up to 20C.Yesterday while we were out we noticed that some kind soul had sprinkled birdseed on the rails of two of the bridges. Today we watched as black and grey squirrels congregated on the rails tucking right in.

 

We couldn't have imagined a more gracious weather day. Eye-dazzling bright, the sun picking out colour still in the leaf pack on the forest floor. Mostly the golds with the occasional flash of red not yet drained out of the leaves while they become more wan as the days go on and proceed to a state of desiccation. 

 

Irving now and again found himself surrounded briefly by his cookie=adoring club; inclusive of course of the most entitled of all, Jackie and Jillie, so glad to see their friends' presence setting off a series of motions to extract the cookie bag and begin dispensing them.

 

Our region, as seen elsewhere is being given a heads-up that even before winter arrives, respiratory illnesses are on the rise. Not only have laboratory tests confirmed the earlier-than-normal presence of flu, but an increasing number of COVID infections, along with a third unusual appearance, that of respiratory syncytial virus, especially among young children. All hospitals are well over capacity, and are experiencing problems maintaining their emergency services, but our regional child-and-youth-centric hospitals are in a dire situation where they're asking general hospitals, themselves overworked and overcrowded, to admit child patients.

 

The public is being urgently urged to wait no longer in accessing flu shots and the COVID bivalent vaccine. Immunization is now available for children six months to two years in an effort to prevent the aggressive-spreading RSV virus from spreading even more. Vaccines are available through public health clinics on appointment, as well as doctors' offices and area pharmacies. We're just as glad we've taken action and updated all of our shots.

 

This afternoon, while we were in the ravine, we came across Nellie, whom we haven't seen in awhile. She was walking her dog Millie. Nellie was always kind of slightly built, but she's now rail-thin. Otherwise healthy, she assures us. Back in early spring of 1999 when COVID was beginning to have its worldwide impacts gaining its reputation as a pandemic, Nellie had just returned from a Florida trip with her husband when we came across them during one of our ravine hikes.

We wee already at that time seeing cases of COVID-19 all over North America. While Ontario wasn't doing too badly, Florida was being swamped with cases. I recall my unease as she enthusiastically told us about what an enjoyable time they'd had, how good it was to get away from winter  however briefly. I felt uncomfortable at her close physical proximity, as though she had no idea that prudent distances were being urged on people in their social interactions.

 

Her husband, I recall, was careful to stand back, courteously allowing us plenty of room between himself and where we stood. I worried for days afterward about that encounter, whether we might have been infected, waiting for symptoms to appear, but they never did. Eventually everyone gained more knowledge about best prevention strategies. 

The important one of course, was immunization, and Ontarians were pretty committed to being vaccinated, hoping to avoid infection, long before the entrance of the more infectious Omicron strain. Last winter, just entering the new year, we met up with Nellie. She was grim-faced as she told us her husband had died. A day after receiving his first vaccine, an Astra-Zeneca shot; she had been given Moderna, they had attended different clinics. Immediately that day he felt ill. It was known by then that reports were coming in that some people with heart problems were being adversely affected by some vaccines.

They called their doctor, he said rest was needed. A bad night followed and the morning hours had him so ill they called 911 and rushed him to hospital by ambulance. The attending doctor informed her later that her husband's heart had literally exploded. The team tending to him at the Heart Institute tried to save him but failed. This is not the kind of outcome that people anticipate can happen, trusting in science. But science can do only so much and people whose vital organs are compromised can be in dire straits when unusual things happen to place a burden of heavy strain on those organs.

 

A quiet conversation ensued between us. One of her sons still lives at  home and that's a support for her. She has always looked after herself; and she's doing that now, as well. What else can you do? she asks rhetorically. Millie no longer looks for the other half of her former companionship-trio. Whenever we come across her now and again, she appears to have retained her spirit of enthusiasm, even if muted. Nellie has done her best to absorb her loss but it's difficult. She smiles wanly, and we part.

It's yet early in the month, but it appears that November has taken umbrage at its customarily well-earned reputation of being a miserable weather month, so it seems to be working quite hard at belying that experienced truth. It may be only the second of November days, but judging by what we've experienced these  two days and the forecast from Environment Canada for the remainder of the week and into the weekend, we can expect more of this balmy, sunny weather. 

There was evidence of either a light rain or a temperature inversion early this morning, but clouds were quickly dispelled to make way for a wide, blue sky featuring a brilliant fall sun. For a change they were eager to sit out on the deck, clear now of all summer furniture and with full sun exposure. We had things to do, we always do, but the object was to get out as early in the afternoon with Jackie and Jillie as we could manage.

The little nip in the air suggested light jerseys would be in order today; slightly cooler than yesterday's high of 15C, and Irving and I wore snug jackets as we set out. Who within the regular forest-hiking community could resist such a beautiful day? At first we had the ravine to ourselves, but it didn't take too long before dogs we're familiar with began showing up and patiently awaiting the cookie routine from Irving.

They're invariably polite and patient while Irving fumbles with the disparate plastic bags holding the cookies he distributes; big ones for big dogs, little ones for little dogs, carried in his all-purpose pouch. None among them were those we had seen yesterday. It makes a difference, the time of day ventured out; people, along with their companion animals, are creatures of habit and that includes the times they allocate for certain recreational pursuits.

 

Eventually, their humans show up and hustle their charges away, even though when each has had their share, they usually listen to Irving who tells them they've had enough, and to run on back to their "dads" and "moms". On occasion we see the same dogs again, tails wagging and imploring soft eyes suggesting they haven't after all, had enough. as they complete a circuit the opposite to ours and we come back in contact.

Two of the Australian shepherds accompanied by a Newfoundland that Irving had just awarded cookies to didn't go dreadfully far before we heard a lot of barking and snarling and called Jackie and Jillie back to us as we ascended one of the hills toward the commotion. By the time we hesitated, then proceeded to the top, another man was descending with his large and beautiful Lab-Doberman mix, a usually placid 4-year-old. The man was being solicitous toward his dog, stroking it and calming it.

 

Both were clearly upset. He told us that his dog, standing aside while the three other dogs reached the top of the hill was suddenly surrounded by them and they attacked the single dog. As the Doberman reacted and defended itself from the onslaught, the man with the three, berated both the man and the Doberman for its aggressive behaviour, when it was his three that had initiated the conflict. We assume he must not have witnessed how the little drama unfolded. 

Some time later we came across Scott, an old friend, pushing his infant son's stroller along the trails above the ravine where the forest continues, and we walked with him awhile. He told us that his mother's neighbour had been using a blow torch to kill weeds, of all things. He set a cedar hedge between the two properties afire and as the hedge burned flames leaped toward his mother's garage, and her driveway. The use of a garden hose by two teens eventually put out the fire. before it could reach the houses. 

 

 

Scott is a professional fireman and he was bemused at the stupidity of people who appear not to be able to translate their actions into bad outcomes.  It's not the first time we've heard of people using blow torches to that purpose and the resulting consequences. The garage is awaiting repairs and the driveway had to be repaved. Insurance, evidently, pays for that kind of misadventure.

Later on, as we were approaching the end of our circuit for the day, we saw something odd beside the trail; interior sections of a hive. Each tiny apartment was unoccupied; there were two of them. And they were lying directly under a destroyed wasp nest. Regular hikers through the forest trails usually can see, identify and know of the presence of wasp nests at various junctions in the forest. This one was located fairly near a pollinating clearing in the forest. Where the wasps doubtless chose to be in close proximity to wildflowers whose nectar pollen and could be handily harvested.

 

 

All the wildflowers that had blossomed so handsomely and in great abundance during the spring, summer and early fall before night-time frosts entered the scene are now long gone. Their brown, shrivelled ghosts of forlornly spent flower stalks remain, some crushed by the wind but no longer offering sustenance for bees and wasps and hoverflies. It's likely the wasps had abandoned the nest. Likelier yet that some teens passing along the trail saw an opportunity to smash a beautiful natural structure.

Not a very good start to the day, this morning when we were out doing our weekly grocery shopping at our usual supermarket where we've shopped for 30 years or so. We always take along with us one of those so-called single-use plastic shopping bags. We save them for this particular use and when we run out we pay five cents apiece for more. We always pack our shopping into reusable fabric or heavy plastic bags, and more commonly use rigid-sided large plastic boxes meant for that purpose that are now quite elderly.

 The 'disposable' bag we take along has a distinct purpose: in it we pack grocery items meant for the local Food Bank. When we exit the store with our purchases we stop first at the large receptacle in the supermarket foyer where shoppers can leave their food donations to be picked up by the drivers for the Food Bank. We've been doing this for longer than I remember, but the need for these donations has become ever more acute among residents of the community who find themselves food-insecure, as they say. 

There are increasingly fewer cashiers employed at the supermarket, made redundant by the new self-check-out units that people who buy only a few items at a time prefer using. We don't. When we approached the check-out this morning there were only two cashier-manned counters open. The usual cashiers appeared to have been replaced by others we didn't recognize. As I emptied our shopping cart and placed the bag with the items meant for the Food Bank on the counter, Irving explained why the food was in the bag and could she please ring them through, we'd repack them.

This explanation isn't required for those who are familiar with us. In our experience, a brief explanation when a new cashier services us is all that's required; the process is self-evident. This middle-aged woman just gaped and looked confused. Irving repeated the same sentence, and a similar reaction recurred. So he said it again, slowly, and louder two more times, then finally asked what the problem was, did she not understand the simple message?

Stone-faced, she rang a supervisor. My husband has a level of patience I don't have. He's a kind and considerate man, going out of his way to be obliging. It's a rare occasion when he loses his temper and he did then. When the supervisor ambled over he addressed them both in frustration, repeating the instructions but tersely. The supervisor turned to the cashier, repeated the sentence slowly, a bulb seemed to go on in the woman's face. And she was unmistakably hostile. By that time Irving was, too.

So, not so good. I had bought for the Food Bank: 2 tins of Heinz pork&beans ($2.98), 2 tins of flaked chicken ($3.98), 2 tins of flaked ham ($3.98), 2 tins of chicken soup ($2.98), 4 tins of tuna ($5.98) and 4 boxes of noodles and cheese dinner ($5.79). We spend between $20 and $25 weekly on these non-perishable items for the Food Bank. This is not the first time we've run up against cashier reluctance to put these items through and/or repack them into the provided bag. In contrast to the many personnel who are courteous and helpful.

But it's an unpleasant experience and we'll no longer continue buying foodstuffs for the Food Bank. Henceforth, we'll send regular cheques so they can access their own supply, as they in all likelihood would prefer. The supermarket where we shop will be out the $20 to $25 we spend weekly on the products they carry, but we will no longer be harassed. That's Food Basics for you.

Thankfully, the balance of the day was far more pleasant. Including stopping off at Farm Boy to augment the shopping done at Food Basics. The puppies were overjoyed to be reunited with us, we put away all the groceries, showered, and had breakfast, relaxing over the newspapers.

And then on a beautiful November 1st, off we went for our afternoon hike through the forest. The morning had been overcast and heavily fogged-in. By mid-afternoon the clouds had dispersed and the sun sailed through an ocean of blue sky. The temperature was a balmy 15C with a light wind, so Jackie and Jillie needed no sweaters for comfort. The aggravation of the morning assault on placid sensibilities dimmed.

We were given a few chuckles during our time in the ravine on such a lovely day, with the antics of our two and those of other doggy companions who found it expedient to leave their humans behind somewhere and go racing uphill and down to where we were, to visit with Irving, the Cookie Man. An air of serenity returned as we ambled along, Irving telling me about the latest debate he watched/listened to online earlier in the day, between Sam Harris and Jordan Peterson.