By noon yesterday the total snow accumulation was 14 centimetres. And that was when Environment Canada had noted the snow would stop for the day, after having fallen throughout the previous night and on into the morning. A thick veil of snow was continuously enveloping the landscape, at some times hesitating briefly, at others increasing in volume.

But noon came and went and it wasn't until four in the afternoon that snow finally stopped falling and left us with a 20 centimetre total for the day. Which is when residents began emerging to clear away their driveways. That is, those people newly home from work and attending to first-things-first, and just as many awaiting the arrival of the snow plows they had contracted for.

By that time, our driveway had already been cleared several times by the contractor we had hired. And by that time, my husband was out with his own snow thrower to clear the paths in the backyard and around the front of the house. It was a test for him, to determine whether he could handle the mechanical beast now that he's recovering. I had earlier interrupted my house-cleaning to clear the backyard paths which my husband had shovelled at seven in the morning. And he was rather angry with me when I ventured to the front of the house to begin shovelling the large open area from the driveway to the paths leading to the house.

The snow was light, and falling without interruption at that time. And it was surprising how high it was on the ground. It was the result of the prevailing wind that day, throwing the snow toward the front of the house when most often it's in the other direction.

The trail leading from our street to the ravine hadn't been much used, so it was thick and high with snow and the municipal plow cleaning the street had shoved a heavy, thick layer of snow against the ravine ingress. So, it took a bit of effort for me and Jackie and Jillie to plod through to where the main trail begins, where we found it to be in far better shape.

We managed to do the ravine circuit, and saw only a pair of 30ish women unknown to us walking a Nova Scotia Duck Toller. The dog was wearing its leash, but it was free because the women were struggling to descend a hill without slipping. Our little dogs ran toward the other dog. And knowing that this breed isn't quite friendly I wished they hadn't. Its reaction to them seemed to give them pause and they returned to me, making my way up the hill as the two women were coming down.

We were passed brief pleasantries and then when I was close to cresting the hill, I realized that though Jillie was beside me, Jackie wasn't. He had run back down the hill and over the bridge, the Duck Toller in hot pursuit. Jackie was afraid and though I called him repeatedly, the presence of the other dog deterred him. I went back down the hill, and he came toward me as one of the women caught her dog's leash and tugged him away from Jackie.

I picked Jackie up, the skinny little tyke, and with him under one arm, repeated my trek back up the hill again, waving goodbye to the two women, and continuing our walk. They were the only people we saw out while we were traversing the trails. And once Jackie relaxed again, he and Jillie made the most of their white environment, racing after one another into the thickest areas of the forest floor, where the snow engulfed them, and they looked as though they were swimming in it.