Surely you jest! we enquire, confronting Nature. Her response, none at all. After all, she asks permission of no one, oblivious to how her moods and inclinations will affect her creatures. In this instance, it's a bit of stunned surprise. Nothing we cannot accept and rise above, since, of course, we have no other options. And it isn't actually anything intolerable, just kind of surprising.

That's how we reacted when at about half-past four yesterday afternoon, after a day of biting winds, dark, raggedy clouds and nippy cold, we looked out to see a rapid snow accumulation, with snow replacing rain, slanting down over the landscape, to join the snow that had already fallen which we hadn't until then noticed. Very wet snow, completely covering and drenching everything.

And more to come, for the rest of the afternoon, evening and on into the night. Mostly melting, but enough of it remaining on the ground to make for a moist, plush covering. Our puppies weren't confused like us, they are far more accepting, and they were delighted to romp about in the snow and snuffle out the differences between rain and frozen rain.

By morning there remained mushy snow on the ground, and rooftops were well covered, though it was no longer snowing, the wind had abated and it was marginally less frigid; still plenty of steel-grey clouds, though.

I thought surely there would be far more snow underfoot in the ravine, but when we were out there it was clear most of the snow had melted; there was more out on the street level than within the forest. Where the snow remained in there was on wood; fallen tree trunks, bridge platforms, the odd bit of forest floor, otherwise, all absorbed.

I cannot recall another October in my memory when snow fell this early. Is this an omen for the coming winter? At one point, as we approach the creek in the final tranche of our circular ramble, we come across a child's toque that had been thoughtfully placed at eye level, on a broken sapling trunk. As regulars in the ravine, one occasionally comes across items that people have lost, from mittens to bits of bicycle parts to sunglasses, doggy booties and occasionally cleats that have fallen off boots.

It has become a simple courtesy to re-position the lost object in a way that makes it more conspicuous, in the hope that whoever lost it will discover where it went astray and reclaim it. It's been a week since that toque has been there, its bright colour failing to attract the attention of whoever had brought a child through the ravine. Atop it, this morning, sat a bit of fall decoration.