It was simply gorgeous out on the forest trails yesterday. And plenty of others in the community -- near and far -- seemed to think so, too. On our leisurely perambulation through the forest trails, but for the deepest, furthest of the trails, we came across quite a few hikers, many with their doggy companions, mostly inveterate trail hikers, along with a few new ones indulging in an annual autumn trek through the woods.

Jackie and Jillie had lots of company, a surfeit of run-abouts, both together and with dogs of their long acquaintance, and we stopped to chat often enough to prolong our exposure to the warm weather, and the brilliant sun. What a change from then to now. We woke this morning to the sight of snow, not frost, lightly dappling rooftops. The temperature had dropped from 16C overnight to -0C, with an emphatic wind gusting through the night.

But yesterday was a beautiful, beautiful day. We left Jackie and Jillie at home for a few hours and took ourselves the distance from our home to the Carleton University Fieldhouse, site of bi-annual antique shows. We'd missed the last two simply because we were fairly disinterested in the stuff being brought out in the final two we'd attended.

Truth is, we didn't expect the wares to be much improved this time around, but long-time searchers after art and antiques fall victim to a kind of virus that makes them restless and curious and propels them to venture out and see what they can see. And so we did. And weren't we surprised. Dealers from Montreal and Toronto showed up, though not admittedly the art dealers that we'd long been accustomed to seeing; too much trouble, too few sales, and health and age impedes their return.

But we saw so many intriguing things, we felt compelled for a change to take our times going through the aisles of assembled dealers selling everything from memorabilia, to glassware, jewellery to paintings, sculptures to clocks, vintage comics to porcelains. For us it was a fascinating few hours moseying about and occasionally speaking with people, invariably mellow and nice individuals whom even brief contact with makes you feel good.

My husband, the art connoisseur, chose a painting whose modest price betrayed its damaged condition. But he is nothing if not enterprising and capable, knowing just how to rehabilitate canvas and damaged oil paint, as well as the frames that hold the paintings. The subject matter is appealing to us and we only marginally regret bypassing a much smaller architectural watercolour that we left behind, a colourful late 19th century cityscape.