Now that the weather is finally moderating, and we had a brilliant all-day-sun treat yesterday, it was surprising to us to see so many people out walking along the ravine trails. People we hadn't seen in months on end were out strolling in the winter-white woods, most with their dogs. Jackie and Jillie were beside themselves with joyful enthusiasm, running before us to greet old friends and new
acquaintances.

The trails were nicely packed down, albeit narrow in some places, but those are the places that relatively few people use for the most part, side trails leading to various streets up above, the trails deep in the ravine, whereas most people simply walk trails closest to the ravine entrances on a wide network of urban streets.

Our own circuit took us quite a long time longer than it usually does to circumnavigate, having to stop repeatedly, not only to exercise the courtesy of allowing people to pass on the narrowed trails, momentarily and briefly stepping off into the deep snow sinking well up to knee-height in the process, but due to the interminable episodes of greeting acquaintances and stopping to talk.

Those talks on occasion took quite a bite (no spelling error) of time, since everyone has so much to say about the winter and how they'd tolerated it, many by leaving Canada for warmer climes. One couple of decades-long acquaintance described how ill he had been with an exotic stomach virus while they were off in heat-soaked India, impairing his ability to enjoy what his wife enthusiastically described for us in minute detail of time well and memorably spent.

The quality of yesterday's atmosphere and the balmy expectations of the week to come will make inroads into the snowpack. Everyone was trying their memory at how long it would take to all melt, and the immediate aftermath of muddy clay dry up to congenially greet spring.