Yesterday, when the American mid-west was horrified and most certainly traumatized by the arrival of yet another vicious group of tornadoes resulting from massive warm-weather systems coming up against equally large cold weather systems resulting in ferocious tunnel winds, we were in our neighbourhood ravine, slogging through the wet snow, while overhead strong gusts of wind sounded like locomotives approaching time and again.

Ontario had received an Environment Canada warning of strong winds prevailing throughout the day Saturday. Large old evergreens were being blown back and forth, dropping boughs in their distress. Bare-branched deciduous trees were in an agony of movement, blasted by the winds that roared above. It might not have seemed a very auspicious time to be in the ravine ambling along with our two little dogs, since obviously enough such rampant gusts are capable of downing large and heavy limbs, as well as dead trees, but we came to no harm. The snow underfoot was well littered with the detritus that had fallen from above.

There had been episodes some few years earlier when we experienced min-tornado-bursts coming through the ravine, and on that occasion a number of very old pines had been snapped like matchsticks. Oddly enough these huge old pines were picked off, even as they stood within a group of other large old pines which remained intact.

Had the weather been any colder than it was - mild for that day at plus-2-degrees Celsius - it would have been quite uncomfortable, with the wind lashing at our faces. As it was, there were only occasional times when we felt well slapped about, our cheeks stinging. My eyes, however, were continually watering under the assault.

We were glad to complete our routine circuit; this time it took more like two hours rather than the usual hour-and-a-half, even though it was easier going underfoot than it had been the day before when we really struggled through the newfallen snow, particularly uphill.

And then, later at home, we looked at the newspapers, seeing photographs of people bereft of their homes, mourning their dead, and we understand quite distinctly how fortunate we are.