In the 26 years since we moved to this community from a previous one where we spent 20 years raising our three children, we were introduced to the pleasure of being able to cross the street we live on to access an extended ravined forest that lies within the community. Quite a few streets, and considerably distanced from each other give access to the trails running through that forest. Mind, the previous community we lived in was built directly within the green belt surrounding Ottawa, so from our other backyard we were able to move onto parkland expanding the further we went, where our family learned in the winter to ski and snowshoe.

When we first began to use the trails here for our daily recreation we began travelling on fewer occasions to the place we had valued most in proximity to the city; Gatineau Park over in Quebec, a mere half-hour's drive away. We had long been accustomed to going with our children on weekends, and on summer workday evenings to various parts of Gatineau Park to explore the extended trail systems there, some which had been blazed ages ago and had fallen into disuse. We got to know them all and seldom saw anyone else using them.

There is where the whole family first became introduced to black flies, a nasty little trick of nature we'd never encountered living in Toronto. But it's also where we introduced ourselves to the flora and fauna of the nature preserve, excitedly seeing porcupines, foxes, deer -- even black bears -- for the first time, close-up. And where we discovered wild strawberries, blackberries, raspberries and blueberries growing in abundance, which we picked in their seasons to make preserves with.

But then came our move, and our children's maturity and their moves, and our introduction to the Bilberry Creek Ravine forest and gradually our canoeing and picnicking trips to Gatineau Park became fewer. We saw foxes, raccoons and wild turkeys there in our backyard-forest as it were, as well, along with grouse -- and some people at dusk and twilight in the winter even encountered coyotes briefly, never us.

We became acquainted with other hikers living in the area, walking their companion animals in the forest; once even a cat, and on another occasion, a little ferret on leash. It was the dogs that took our attention since we had one, and then two of our own. We got to know three generations of companion dogs over the years. When one would die, its owners would grieve and they had the sympathy of the trail-walking community. Once, there were even temporary messages put up on trees informing of the death of a beloved neighbourhood beagle.

Now, when we venture daily into the ravine we increasingly come across puppies. Our own twins, now three years of age, were at one time the only puppies introduced to the trail-walking community; now we come across newly-inducted members of the trail-walking community on a regular basis. Time and the tides.