The penetrating cold exacerbated by biting winds that winter days can bring never bothered us back when we were young/younger. Which is to say we were able back then to maintain a fairly brisk pace trudging about on the snow-packed trails of the forested ravine. Decades ago. Faster, further, utter lack of fatigue.

We think our pace is fairly brisk, still. And then we walk awhile with younger folk and realize that on the ascents their pace is steady and ours tends to lag. In actual fact, I've found that when we're with others we tend to pick up our pace to match theirs and don't, in the process, feel any the worse for it. When we're together without anyone else about we take our time, and that really works best for us.
Steady as she goes is us.

We saw no one else out and about in the ravine yesterday. It was quite cold at -14C, but we escape the worst of the winds when we're in the ravine. It's when we trudge uphill to attain the higher flat portions when the wind sends its probing icy fingers through the forest canopy and more open areas where the main trails tend to be much wider.

Jackie and Jillie take no notice of any of these details quite irrelevant to their experience. Wearing those little protective booties over their tiny feet makes quite the difference for them. They don't seem to be aware that their feet are restricted in these tight little rubber things, but they do seem to react as though they've been spurred to action. That action takes the form of madcap races and leaps and pirouettes as though they're teaching a class of squirrels the requisite acrobatics to skip from branch to bough.

When we arrive home and hastily remove the boots, conscious of the restricting element and aware that we don't want to cut off their circulation, their feet are clean and warm. Otherwise, after new fallen snow they pick the snow up in between the interstices of their pads and every step compacts the snow, the heat of their body turning it to ice as they pick up new layers until their pads are packed with uncomfortable lumps of ice.

They will attempt themselves to bite the ice off, usually to little avail. Because of their obvious discomfort we pick them up from time to time to peel away the accumulated ice. And the process is repeated. Seems infinitely more practical to avoid all of that and pull those little rubber booties on.
When the temperature isn't too cold, that becomes an option. When it plunges to -20C, the boots are a necessity.

Despite the cold we felt fairly toasty, having ourselves worn layers upon layers under our winter jackets. We'd miss too much if we hesitated to venture out to the forest for a daily walk, due to the inclemency of the weather. It always seems so much more cold, icy, windy and harassing out on the street. Once we're in the forest striding along the trails we feel partially cocooned in nature's more gentle of moods.