In all seasons and for a multitude of reasons, our neighbourhood wooded ravine provides us with a whole spectrum of various types of pleasurable encounters. In the spring, a succession of wildflowers bloom to delight us with their fresh shapes and colourful presence, and throughout the summer others take their place in seasonal succession.

And then there are the birds, everything from visiting great blue herons and dabbling ducks transiting through seasonally, to the three types of woodpeckers that normally inhabit the woods; from the tiny downies to the slightly larger hairy woodpeckers and then on to the impressively large Pileated. Bluejays visit, crows abound joined occasionally by ravens, and we host seasonal hawks that nest there and owls as well. Goldfinches delight us with their bright presence, and cardinals with their exquisite songs, vying with song sparrows for attention.

We see the early-appearing butterflies Mourning Cloaks and later skippers and Monarchs and everything in between; as well as damselflies with their iridescent bodies not quite the measure of the more voluminous-presence dragonflies, but almost. And bees and wasps going about their business of pollen-collection. We appreciate the blazing floral display of the ravine's wild apple trees and their later ripening many of which please our palate.

And then of course during the winter months when we slog through the snow drifts with our little dog we are presented with downy snow-covered scenes that appear as though they have been lifted out of someone's imagination of a white wonderland.

But it was only this past week that I fully realized the potential of the ravine as a place where hugs can be given out freely. Apart, that is, from those my husband and I exchange in a exuberance of appreciation of our lives and the good fortune that caused us to move close by such a wonderful recreational source that so enhances our daily lives.

Last week we happened to come across a small family on the trails, a father, mother and a tiny four-year-old girl of surpassing charm and social skills. A child who suddenly approached me and gathered her tiny presence close around me in a distinctively warm hug, taking me completely by surprise and warming my heart at her guileless humanity. The child had gathered a number of very small apples into a pocket of a vest she was wearing, and in her hand was a bright maple leaf; clutched beside it a small piece of white birch bark. A nature lover recognizing the presence of another nature lover, over 70 years separating them in age.

And then, several days later, we came across a young man accompanied by two very young children and a rambunctious black Labrador. The four-year-old child was initially quiet, grasping his father's hand as they clambered up one of the hills. The five-year-old was loud and inquisitive, roaming about almost as wildly as the family dog, overjoyed at the ambiance. The older of the two children decided too that I was deserving of a hug, and he grasped me close, happy to have me stroke his small back and say how pleased I was to meet him.

This was a Down Syndrome child, but obviously high on the spectrum of achievability, enjoying his surroundings and eager to communicate. Our very brief acquaintance soon brought his younger brother out of his shy period and both boys wanted to know why I was distributing peanuts and whether they could do the same. Their inquisitive dog soon discovered that the small objects the two boys were tossing about were very much to his taste.

And a good time was had by all, before our most amicable parting.