Although of course it was madly delusional; it almost seemed yesterday as though Nature was reconsidering her annual invitation to winter to take up residence here again. The stage was certainly set and most convincingly. We'd had a series of snowfalls, one serious enough to leave a considerable amount of snow covering everything, and cemented into place as it were, by falling temperatures more reflective of December than November.

Even while we appreciated its beauty on the landscape, white-washed and brilliant, the wind that accompanied the snowfalls made for some pretty chilly days. There's nothing quite like the combination of piercingly chill winds and plunging temperatures to convince even the most optimistically recalcitrant, intent on lingering in fall mode, that winter has arrived.

Four days ago the daytime high temperature here was minus-6 with stiff winds; that miserable duo of winter. Yesterday, however, we were basking disbelievingly in an atmosphere of late-summer return with the temperature hovering at the plus-18-degree mark. And the wind, though robust, seemed downright tender. Even though the sky was heavily overcast with what looked like rainclouds rimmed with threatening dark greys after the all-night rain of the night before, the sun managed to coquettishly wave to us a few times from its perch above.

Even with the absence of the extreme cold and wretched wind, and the snow having melted, we knew, as we hiked through the forest starting out just after three in the afternoon yesterday, that we would be returning home in the dark of evening dusk rapidly becoming the blank, black stare of night. Shortening daylight hours the most convincing of all indicators that winter really has arrived. Our respite was short-lived, aggressive winds overnight brought in the cold again and we're back to what passes as normal.