No doubt about it, nature is a wicked tease. We were so rapturous yesterday over the weather. The temperature soared to 22-degrees Celsius, the wind was robust but gracefully kind, and the sun smiled all day coasting through a Periwinkle-blue sky. It was such a lovely day we were happy to stay out roaming through the forest trails for as long as we could. 

 

Everyone was happy, from the companion dogs that presented themselves constantly for cookie treats from Irving, to the perennial wildflowers that decided to surprise us with an early presence. The Trilliums on the verge of opening their flower buds yesterday wouldn't be doing that today. The Coltsfoot had closed their bright yellow heads in the absence of sun. 

 

In the backyard, though, it seemed much more pleasant and I went about assessing the pace of renewal. Early-blooming scilla are having a really good time; they've naturalized to the extent that they've replicated and now form little packs of bright blue blooms, tiny and cheerful. Early-blooming Lungwort has also proliferated and is beginning to bloom.

Peonies are sending their bright red shoots out of the garden soil. And roses are coming to life. I set up cages for both to give them the support they will need when they begin their bloom stages. By mid-June the first blush of roses should be in full thrust, and the peonies will have grown thick with foliage, their large, colourful and fragrant flower heads leading into summer. 

 

The pair of cardinals that we see now and again through the winter months were out in one of our tall spruce trees, and chickadees and nuthatches were busy landing on the rose canes and the ornamental trees in the front garden. We saw Benjamin rabbit last night nibbling on carrots; first time we've managed to spot him in several weeks, though the carrots are always gone when we look.

It had rained heavily all night, so when we went out to the ravine it wasn't unexpected that the trails were muddy once again; yet another change from yesterday when they were all firm and dry. There too, there is more bird life. Juvenile robins are beginning to show themselves, some of them now over-wintering. At this time of year they have a tendency to 'run' along the trails.

 

And down in the forest creek we saw the male Mallard duck again. His mate was nowhere in sight; we haven't seen her in a week or so, though the male tends to be around. We assume that she's nesting somewhere further along the creek where it forms into a pool in the forest interior, likely sitting on eggs.

The atmosphere in the ravine bore no resemblance to what it was like yesterday. Cool enough to wear gloves, so my hands were stuffed into my jacket pockets.

We could actually sense the oncoming rain, good enough reason to head back home and confine our outing today to a much shorter circuit than we took yesterday.