The last day of January saw a crisp, cold day inviting us for a circuit in the ravine with Jackie and Jillie. We missed the sun. It was out all morning and into the early afternoon, but by the time we set out at three in the afternoon the sun had bid the day goodbye and the blue sky had given way to steadily shifting pewter clouds.

Since the high temperature for the day was -14C with some wind, we knew a bit of adversity in conditions awaited us and dressed our little dogs and ourselves accordingly. As we finished up our hike in the ravine and were just exiting, a hiking friend with his three dogs wast just then entering the long slope leading to the forest trails, and he was well muffled, a thick scarf pulled across his lower face so only his smiling eyes greeted us, and his voice.

Off we set toward the street and home, after Jackie and Jillie had leapfrogged all over our friend's three Border Collies, excited at the brief get-together. Our friend and his wife had returned a week ago from a ten-day winter holiday in Costa Rica, so it makes sense that a bit of re-adjustment to a far different climate was called for. Ordinarily not much fazes this guy, a former tactical squad police officer.

The bridges in the ravine -- there are about four of them, reduced from the original five -- are finally getting smothered with layers of snow. Little wonder since Environment Canada tells us we've hit a record snowfall amount for January. On the other hand we can recall winters when the floor of the bridges were raised so high we felt uneasy passing over them, the top rails at thigh level; the floor raised by at least three and more feet of hard-packed snow and ice. They're merely at the one-foot level at present.

We're not coming across too many people and their dogs actually, on these days when it's been so icy-cold, with wind whipping through the atmosphere, adding a wind-chill factor well above the -14C of the average day-time highs lately. But we did come across one acquaintance with her young German Shepherd mix yesterday, familiar to us and named Sasha, happily dressed for the weather, and even happier to offer a playful run-about with Jackie and Jillie.

We're not ourselves staying out as long as we normally do, cutting our daily circuits short by selecting alternate trails that don't thread through as much of the forest as we normally take. By the time we're ready to clamber up the last of the hills toward street level our noses usually feel as though they've fallen off and the cold has penetrated to bone and flesh.

But the quality of the landscape remains incandescently beautiful, our reward for getting out there into the forest daily. Rewards are ample for Jackie and Jillie as well. Their frequent stops to acquaint themselves with the marking messages left by other companion dogs going through the forest trails bring them up to date with the latest canine news of the larger neighbourhood.

They have a tendency when they see something different on a familiar trail to exhibit great curiosity with the intention of exploring what it is, after their initial audible warning that halt! something different lies ahead. Everything shows up on the wide, deep and white blanket of snow covering the forest floor. Yesterday it was a partial branch complete with desiccated foliage that drew their interest.

An interest that lasted for as long as it took for them both to vigorously sniff at it, paw it, and reject it, then move on. But it did hold their interest briefly, as do many other perplexing sudden appearances of woodland objects all of which must undergo strict vetting.