It usually happens as winter progresses that we have a gradually accumulating snowpack. One snowstorm after another, with little in the way of melt in between makes quite a statement at the end of the season. We're nowhere near the end of the season and already have acquired quite a thick layer of snow that just isn't going anywhere anytime soon.

And, as usual, a narrow corridor begins to assume its usual proportions anywhere that people require a walkway. As we do in the backyard for our little dogs. As we do in the front of the house for daily newspaper delivery. As anyone who ventures out into the ravine does if they have any hopes of moving along.

What also happens is that entrance to the ravine becomes progressively more awkward, requiring some fancy footwork; sometimes a bit of clambering, sometimes an alternate route in. If it weren't for the fact that we have a group mailbox close to the ravine entrance we'd be even more challenged. There's a mountain of snow at least as tall as my height between the road and the usual ravine
entrance.

But now we're sidestepping the entrance through little other choice. Up to now we've been able to scramble over the accumulating snow that the municipal snowplow throws up at the side of the road, but that's no longer possible, given the 35 - 40 centimetres we've received on top of what had already accumulated over the winter.

It's amazing, in a sense, though relatively few people use the forest for their outdoor recreation and commune with nature, enough do, even in straitened circumstances such as this when you've got to fight the elements' residues that make passage beyond difficult, to create a pathway along the trails.

So we're grateful for that, as well. That others, like ourselves, find it valuable for the quality of our lives to get out into a forest environment and enjoy the brisk winter air and the lightness of being part of our natural setting.