It's been highly unusual that in the month of February there was so much weather prevarication that the snowpack that had developed in the previous winter months failed to grow as it usually does in our geographic area. We did have a decent accumulation of hard-packed snow and ice up until February's arrival, when usual weather conditions that prevail are very like the month of January.

And then things changed; we alternated constantly between untypically mild weather, turning the usual snowfalls into freezing rain or  just plain rain and the snowpack went into reduction mode. At this present juncture, in the first week of March -- another month that usually gives us unwelcome weather surprises more typical of January than what we're being exposed to now -- snow has receded significantly in some areas, though plenty remains to be melted completely before April arrives.

There are clearing patches in the ravine now, and most days the creek runs furiously, wider and higher than it should for this time of year, as moderated day-time highs reach into the low single-digits above freezing and the sun contributes its warmth. It's a warmth that is increasing as we move closer to spring, so that out at street level it can be felt. Yet on the other hand we've also had more than ample sharp, gusty winds which even at moderate temperatures translate to icy touches of winter.

Once in the ravine,  however, among the forest trees, walking through the trails, cold radiates upward from the accumulated strata of ice and snow, even while the wind is less evident since we're protected by the dense forest. Moreover, because of the vacillating conditions the top layer of snow on many of the trails has melted, revealing the presence of slick ice. In some instances on the occasional sunny and relatively warm day melting has produced rivulets of icy water spreading over certain trail areas most notably but not necessarily restricted to slopes, and when colder temperatures return the result is really glassy ice.

Necessitating that we pick our way carefully over these areas, rather than stride confidently ahead as is our usual wont. We've slipped and crashed often enough on occasion and have no wish whatever to repeat those occasions.

People who often come into the ravine for walks along the trails avoid these underfoot conditions by going elsewhere, on the street, for their walks. Those who continue to venture into the ravine, valuing the environment and its lovely landscapes along with the peace that prevails, take the precaution, as we do, of always wearing cleats strapped over their boots. Yesterday afternoon a group of us happened to meet at one point, and we stood together discussing the various merits of the cleats we were using; some expensive, others moderately priced and all safeguarding life and limb in these conditions.

Fortunately enough, they had their companion dogs with them, so Jackie and Jillie weren't too terribly bored waiting around for us to continue our jaunt. When they're anxious to go they let us know, Jackie taking to naughty behaviour including chewing on an accessible portion of his harness, and Jillie to scrabbling at my boots to deliver the message they're anxious to move on.