We're so rational, analytical and fact-motivated yet we anxiously await the emergence of a groundhog to inform us whether winter will be prolonged or the alternative, that kind weather fortune will ensure we have a shorter, warmer winter closure for 2018. Having 'seen his shadow' the icon of prognostication has alerted us: six more weeks of winter.

As though we hadn't already reached that inevitable conclusion.

Regardless, these little spurts into fun-fantasy enliven winter days. Along with winter carnivals to enthuse us over the presence of frigid atmospheres, roaring wind, sleet, freezing rain and wonderful, beautiful snowfalls, we have the diversion of Punxsatawnie Pete; at the very least a succession of PPs.

Yesterday dawned brilliantly sunny and it remained that way, despite the icy cold that has descended along with the sun, yanking us back to winter chill following a day giving us a break from the bitter cold. From an overnight low, repeated last night, of -22C, the thermometer struggled back up to -14C, giving us a high for the day, yesterday.

But wait, not so fast ... given the windchill factor it would feel like -30C, the weather forecasters informed us soberly. And to our experience, it did all of that.  Mind, when we dipped down into the ravined forest, the presence of wind diminished, and we just had to contend with the -14C. We had placed those tiny rubber boots on Jackie and Jillie hoping that they would be as useful on their second trial as they'd proven to be on the first, last week.

Our puppies seem to transform when we enter the ravine, a sense of lightness and liberty appear to absorb them, and they leap and bound down the trail, excitedly emoting as they go. Cold enough that we would decide a shorter circuit would do for the day, we didn't think we'd come across anyone else, and that turned out to be quite correct.

But their boots stayed on, and our little dogs romped and rummaged about in the new layers of snow and we enjoyed the landscape unfolding before us as we forged on. The wind did manage to penetrate now and again, howling unimpeded through the denuded canopy, and dipping occasionally into the forest. The wind collaborated with the cold to rake our exposed cheeks and foreheads mercilessly.

Still, getting out with our little dogs is important to our daily routine, refreshing and leaving us with the impression  hat we'd done something useful to ourselves and our little charges. Each of our rambles through the forest, regardless of the season, seems to us like a bit of an adventure. And in the sense that we most often view and experience things that seem unusually noteworthy, it does represent a daily adventure in living.