We always derive pleasure from our woodland walks, but some days those excursions, due to a combination of various circumstances, are recalled with more satisfaction than others. Yesterday was just such a day. It helped immeasurably that it was a mild day with the temperature soaring to 2C, with no discernible wind, albeit heavily overcast.

The light snowfall events of the past few days, though each accounted for no more than four or five, even two centimetres of snow, made for a nice, deep cushion on the forest floor, transforming the icy trails from potential danger to absolute comfort, enabling us to stride along freely with full confidence that we were in no danger of slipping and falling.

The conditions that had prevailed days back when the trails were ribbons of sheer ice that even our booted cleats couldn't penetrate kept a lot of people out of the ravine. There's quite a few retirees in the neighbourhood around the extensive ravine and its forest who make daily treks into our privileged natural resource and it seemed they came out in full numbers with the return of safe purchase underfoot.

Not everyone is interested in exploring the full extent of the intersecting trails. Many of the area streets which give entrance to different parts of the ravine remain on level, flat ground so people are able to take advantage of short circuits, bypassing the descents that are so prevalent throughout the ravine, taking ample satisfaction of their brief encounters with nature.

That's not our habit and never has been. When we first encountered this treasure of a forest we used to energetically spurt through the trails, advancing much further distances than we cover now. Some of those old trails we used to take advantage of, however, no longer exist in areas where the geology is accustomed over time to shedding its slopes in bursts of weather-caused slumps.

In any event, yesterday's circuit was beyond pleasant. And we came across so many of our friends doing as we were, enjoying the weather and the landscape, and setting forward across the wider stretches of the forest's trails. We generally stop to spend a surprising amount of time on various types of discussions, depending upon whom we come across and our relations gained over time with various individuals, all of which adds to the pleasure derived in the walk.

Little Munchkin

People tend to divulge personal information and each becomes acutely aware of personalities and circumstances and the need to commiserate or congratulate as the case may be. One person we came across was an older woman who lives at the foot of the street we live on and whom we've known for almost thirty years. Her husband, 15 years her senior, is now living in a 'retirement home', and she, living alone for the first time in thirty years, is happy at that turn of events.

She was walking little Munchkin, a tiny long-haired Dachshund, whom she cares for in the absence of its owners who are off for a two-month stay in Australia -- themselves also neighbours living down our street -- visiting with their daughter, son-in-law and their children. She waxed enthusiastic over the fact that she has no need to have a dog of her own for company and pleasure, since she walks little Munchkin herself daily even when the little dog's owners are about.

Another couple has just bidden farewell to their single 31-year-old daughter visiting from Montreal who had brought along her large, frisky GoldenDoodle. And we exchanged stories of how our children are so endearingly eager to cook for us as a treat, producing exotic meals with strange hot spices, and how now that they're grown and so mature they're aware of the courtesy of picking up after themselves and how pleasant that is...