Finally, we've hit a spate of sublime spring weather, warm, sunny, breezy and dry. It's been a clarion call to the neighbourhood to get out and enjoy themselves and as a result we've been coming across more people wending the trails in the forest. With them -- at least most trail-trodders -- are their companion dogs. Old dogs and puppies, both.

In our many years of daily rambles in the woods we've come across people walking a cat on leash and also a ferret, as well. Irregular to say the least, but utterly charming. We've seen on several occasions three-legged dogs -- hounds -- whipping through the trails as fast as the wind.

Our two pups can't remember what it was like when they were puppies and when they come across new puppies in the trail, they are suspicious and keep their distance from what they think are beastly little creatures, annoyingly persistent -- just as they had been three and a half years ago.

When our miniature poodle/pomeranian -cross Button reached the ripe old age of 19 years, 4 months, and died, we were disconsolate. Riley, our toy poodle, lived for another three years after Button died, until he reached just beyond 15 years. We couldn't accustom ourselves to their absence. And that speedily -- all too quickly -- led to our bringing Jackie and Jillie home with us, two sibling poodles. Have you ever noticed how people tend to stay with the breed they become most familiar with?

Now, when we're out and about we get introduced to the puppies that acquaintances have brought home, after their older dogs have departed this mortal coil. When you're accustomed to the presence of a bright, happy creature whose accompaniment you treasure being always there beside you, their absence is acutely emotionally troubling.

And so, with so many people out yesterday, Jackie and Jillie met up with old friends and new, and so did we. And we were fascinated to note how quickly the woods has been encouraging its flora to emerge from the drying forest floor. Yesterday we came across the first of the wild strawberry plants to flower, and so too a minuscule woodland violet.

Our daily trek through the ravine, noting the differences that appear day-to-day is absorbing and rewarding. There's always something to be heard, to be seen, that is different and attractive. Lots of chickadees around, and accompanying nuthatches, and hairy woodpeckers and Pileated as well. We haven't seen the owls yet, only heard them up to now. Eventually, a casual visitor just returning north, a Great Blue heron, will appear along the creek; we've seen it for years.