They're time- and action-omnivorous, focused on frenetic movement, not still for a moment, eager to explore, to play, to rumble and ramble, and all in one instant of action following on another at dizzying speed. Their traction carries them swiftly around corners, tumbling over one another in a frenzy of motion, their tiny bodies becoming a blur of black haircoat, fluffy little tail following.

Trying to take photographs of them is a mug's game. Most snaps simply turn out a blur of speed the camera cannot deal with. A second of stillness is about the most that can be hoped for, but that's still not enough to enable the capturing of their still essence, because there is little 'still' about them. Their devotion to movement is complete and non-stop.

It's cold, averaging at the warmest parts of the day around minus-ten degrees. Happily our backyard has its own micro-climate, usually without the harshness of wind that strikes everywhere else in our great out-of-doors, a nuisance during the hot summer months, a blessing in winter. Still, the snow accumulates, and they appear to consider it a challenge to leap in amazing feats of acrobat-level talent into the still-low and fluffy snowbanks that remain on either side of the many areas that have been cleared throughout the back to give them ample room to roam.

They delve deep into the snow, their fluffy black coats welcoming a sheer veil of dry snow dappling the ebony, digging their sharp little snouts into the stuff, eating it voraciously, the cold and the snow itself seeming to goad them into ever more frantic movement as they begin to 'swim' their way through the deepest parts, tunneling  their way through, all four pounds of musculature each, then tumbling over, around and under one another in a scramble of peerless joy in motion.

To witness that sheer love of life and curiosity of its elements is a renewal of one's own.