We're once again in that state of winter-weariness. It is a time-of-year phenomenon that strikes people living in northern latitudes such as ours. Nature's teasing habit of allowing us one or two days of moderate temperatures, a beaming sun and reduced wind never fails to raise our hopes that winter is finally taking its leave for another year.

And then the true face of nature is revealed once more as moderation is succeeded by ferociously mean winds hurling freezing temperatures at us in the maelstrom of a heavy snowstorm. We are aware that we should know better, but hope springs eternal.

Yesterday the mellow temperature and absent wind that we've been anticipating finally arrived. We have to keep repeating to ourselves; enjoy it while we can and remember this is a one-day event. Sure enough, Environment Canada has given fair heads-up that by Wednesday we'll be plunged back into a daytime high of minus-6 or -7, and accompanied by the usual wind it'll feel much more intemperate than merely the registered temperature.

But yesterday was an entirely other situation. The entire day was an atmospheric delight, one celebrated by cardinals singing their incomparable melodies of grace and beauty. As we entered the ravine for our usual woodland walk we were greeted by the lunatic call of a Pileated woodpecker. Chickadees and nuthatches flitted about everywhere. There were robins down by the creek.

And perhaps unsurprisingly, we kept coming across others out walking the forested trails. In fact there were so many people walking their dogs that we'd never seen before, at times it resembled an urban park groomed to entice local residents to take part in that most civil of enterprises; the habitual stroll-in-the-park. Parts of the trails are deceptively tricky, that people unaccustomed to them soon discovered, requiring care where they trod, as ice at times is covered by a thin layer of snow.

Our two little dogs were beside themselves with excitement at the sight of all those people and the prospect of playing with other dogs. At one point it was a six-month-old black Labrador puppy that consumed their interest, and they jousted with the boisterous puppy for quite a length of time. At one point Jillie retreated and Jackie was left to face off against the puppy, getting bowled over completely more than once, in the process.

We came across the adorable wisp of a three-pound dog, Rosa, out for a stroll with her companion. The tiny dog dressed in a blue coat seems happy enough to trot along over the tamped-down trails. Our two, behaving obstreperously around such a delicate little creature makes me downright nervous but Jackie's fascination with Rosa warrants that caution. Small as he is, he appears gigantic next to Rosa.

The reverse occurred when Benji, the Bernese Mountain dog came tumbling down one of the hills to the lower trail we were on at that time. Benji is close to seven months old, and hefty. He's playful as puppies are, and not quite aware of his immense girth and strength. Jackie is less than thrilled to be tumbling about with Benji and doesn't offer to, while Benji amiably makes himself available for a wrestling match.

We weren't about to ramble on more than a hundred yards yesterday, before coming abreast with others on the trails. It was only on the more extended of the trails, requiring more of a physical effort to reach, that we found ourselves with fewer encounters.

Little wonder people were out and about, responding to nature's invitation to enjoy such a rare treat which will eventually become less rare.