It looked as though yesterday was meant to be as overcast and dismal as the day before, with unrelenting snow flurries, high winds and freezing rain. No chance afforded us to get out that day, no brief breaks in the weather, no lifting of the winds and the stubborn, ambient darkness. A darkness that permeated the interior of the house which normally lights up in more clement weather, thanks to the many large windows in every room.

In fact, by mid-afternoon the sun took a swift glimpse through the clouds and decided to graciously allow them to continue dominating the skies, at least for the time being. However, rain and snow did relent, eventually, as the temperature rose to a warming 4C, the precipitation becoming drizzle on occasion before reverting once again to full-blown rain.

It was during one of those drizzle episodes that we finally made our break for the outside, rain gear all around. When we descended into the ravine the upper portion of the forest looked quite depleted of foliage, since there are quite a lot of poplars established there. The weather had contributed to the shedding, needless to say. An earlier-than-normal spate of cold, wind and precipitation in all its forms.

But as we forged our way further through the trails and into the heart of the forest the sheer brightness of the fallen foliage against the sullen grey of the atmosphere was itself a study in contrasts, enough to take your breath away. It did ours.

Jackie and Jillie were more than happy to poke their way through the clearing underbrush on the forest floor. There are so many mysterious and exciting fragrances and odours to be investigated and so little time to examine the extravagance of its fall-season presence. Enough to keep them busy and fail to notice that now it's we who are in the lead as they linger, fascinated by all the messages their busy noses pick up.

Now, it's the turn of the beeches to flaunt their colour; it seems they're the last of the deciduous trees to turn and when they do the colour they put out is electrifying in its orange-bronze-gold combination, drawing our eyes to either a single immature beech growing among other trees, or a large copse of fully mature beeches long established along a stretch of the forest trails.

As we stroll along the trails our boots kick up drifts of colourful dry leaves so reminiscent of when we were children and took absolute delight in the piles of fallen leaves inviting us to dive into leaf-strewn hills of fragrant, desiccating foliage much to the annoyance of adults busy raking them up off their grassy lawns.