Everyone bundled against the cold, a little neighbourhood gathering stood before the mess that now distinguishes our front lawn from that of our neighbours, wondering what insanity would convince Bell Canada to begin such a project at this time of year. The fellow using the steam shovel to dig ferociously below the frost line to a depth of five feet had told us his father had worked in the Yukon for the RCMP, and his family set trap lines in the winter, so he was used to the cold, given yesterday's high for the day was -17C, with a wicked wind, and he had eschewed a jacket for a short-sleeved shirt.

We all soon dispersed, after one of those intense chats neighbours sometimes indulge in, they to return to their warm houses and we to continue on up the street into the ravine with Jackie and Jillie. Our two little dogs have missed their daily forays. With that wind emphasizing the cold to the extent that they froze up completely in just short visits to the back yard we felt it better to avoid any prolonged exposure to that extreme of weather.

By the third day, yesterday of deprivation, they were downright gloomy. Not so much Jillie but certainly Jackie. This morning they both followed us around wherever we went, and it was clear they were puzzled at the lack of opportunity we were giving them to race madly about on the forest trails. So we suited up, and this time they wore a light layer, a thicker one, and a heavier one still under their harness along with their indispensable boots before we set out for the ravine.

Today, after all, the weather is far more clement. No real wind to speak of, the sun full out blazing away cheerfully, and the temperature had risen to -16C. We'd had 20 cm of new snow a few days ago with that raging wind, so there was plenty of white puffy snow layering the forest floor. The depth of snow on people's lawns is now finally beginning to resemble an average Ottawa winter. What we did find somewhat surprising is that despite those high winds there was plenty of snow left sticking to tree trunks and boughs.

We keep marvelling at the fact that those tiny rubber boots are so effective in keeping our puppies' feet from freezing. But they do, enabling them to romp about to their hearts' content. We saw no one else out on the trails other than Rob who lives a great deal distant from us and enters through a completely different portion of the ravine; we had espied him in the distance, on another trail while we were up on the ridge of the main trail. But Nova, his almost-year-old puppy knew we were out and about and at several points through our circuit came to visit, happy to see us as we were to greet him.

Despite the lack of wind we found the cold did manage to seep its way through our protective layers of clothing, so we didn't opt for a really long circuit. As it was, our gloved hands began to freeze up before we exited the ravine. My cheeks under these conditions always resemble those of one of those Ukrainian/Russian stacking dolls. The new snow down on the trails have yet to be tamped down through a succession of days of use, so that too was a bit of a deterrent to a longer walk, since it takes greater effort to tramp through the trails under newly-fallen snow conditions.

There is absolutely nothing quite so magical as the sight of winter trees engulfed in new snow. We could see where the snowpack shows evidence of its increase, creeping up the trunks of trees, elevating our position quite substantially in comparison to what it is in the summer months. The sun glaring its vibrant rays through the tree tops glancing off the snow-laden boughs of trees creates an incredible vision of nature's perfect landscapes, and we're fortunate to be privileged to be exposed to it and to admire it so close at hand.