Now, at long last, the sights, sounds and fragrance of spring have arrived. The unmistakable scent of spring, fresh and airy, bright and nostalgia-driven enters our thoughts and lungs with its compelling message, gladdening our very souls.

Each day I can see the snowpack shrinking, revealing bit by bit, more of our gardens, anxious to escape the dark confines of winter. And each day, never failing to surprise me, I see fresh green shoots emerging from the sleeping soil, suddenly aware that it is time to nudge itself awake and begin the long-hoped-for process of renewal.

On those days when the sky is clear, like an uninterrupted colony of morning glories blazing down upon us the perfection of blue, blue and more blue, centering a sun in its spring equinox ecliptic tracing its diurnal pattern across the sky, its warmth penetrates our clothing through to our warmth and vitamin D deprived skin, just as winter wind and cold did, to the opposite effect.

Our little twins, Jackie and Jillie, like their predecessors, love the presence of the sun and beg to be allowed to sun themselves on the boards of the deck. Surrounded by snow not yet melted below the deck, the raised surface is an island of warm wood welcoming the little dogs to bask in the heavenly warmth and the healing properties of the sun. As the months go by, they will make an effort to avoid direct contact with the sun's warming rays, but for now, they glory in that contact.

In the Bilberry Creek Ravine forest the snowpack is finally beginning its melt, so that when we trek along the trails, the effect is a dragging one, of trudging through soggy quicksand, requiring more energy and slowing progress. The snow and ice that had accumulated on the ravine bridges over the winter months will take longer to melt for they have a hard depth of one-and-a-half feet.

But we also see the return of birds on their reverse migration, with flocks of geese flying in formation overhead, joyously proclaiming their presence as they head toward the Ottawa River. The hawks we've become accustomed to seeing on their spring return have also appeared. The pileated woodpeckers have returned too, from their winter sojourn in the boreal forest.

Today, we're locked into our interior world. Rain is persistent and pervasive. Jillie doesn't appear to care that poodles were bred as water dogs, she simply hates the rain, and facing puddles avoids contact through notable leaps she isn't particularly otherwise known for accomplishing. Jackie, who is far more nimble and light than his sister, is not averse to water, loves his bath where she does not particularly, and simply leaps over puddles if he feels like it, or wades through them if he's so inclined.

The rain, destined to last throughout the day and night lifting only tomorrow morning, will do its part to hasten the melting snowpack on its journey through the forest creek and on through linked waterways, gaining flood status and momentum until it reaches the Ottawa River, to greet the homecoming geese.