We've got a constant stream of visitors, even more than during the worst of the winter days and nights when the temperature plunged to -20 and lower. They've been hungry visitors. So much so that lately
my husband is required to put out offerings three times daily, to keep replenishing the stock of bread cubes, seeds and nuts that our little visitors can choose from.

We can identify some of them; a pair of cardinals has been coming around in the winter months for years. This year a sole slate-back junco has been a frequent visitor, sometimes with his mate, most often alone. Crows occasionally drop by. The doves that we saw in small packs last winter have not yet reappeared, though we did see several in late fall. And squirrels, red, grey and black take their fill on a daily basis; we've familiarized ourselves with some of them.

Yesterday well before dusk fell, the (or a) rabbit came along and spent an hour on the porch, nibbling through the offerings. My husband was concerned that if when night fell the (or one of) raccoon came along there might be an awkward stand-off. But eventually the rabbit left, and the raccoon made its presence, in the dark. Because my husband likes to give them the assurance of safety, he turns off the porch light. And that makes it impossible for me to get any photographs of our night-time visitors. Photos come out too blurred to be useful.

Besides which, though the raccoon isn't too bothered -- rather it evokes its curiosity -- at me appearing before the glass door to peer outside at it, the rabbit and many birds are flighty, fearfully conscious of movement and ultra-aware of their vulnerability. We used to have neighbouring cats come about from time to time, but the cats have outgrown their lifespans and we no longer see them.

Creatures that have been in semi-hibernation through the really frigid winter months with howling winds and constant snowstorms are now emerging. The squirrels to go through their mating ritual, and ducks returning as spring begins to show signs of return.

Yesterday on our afternoon ravine ramble, we came across others of our friends out doing the same, making for a bit of a diversion for Jackie and Jillie. Usually, after the first enthusiastic greetings have taken place and a bit of a run-about, the dogs turn to inspecting the forest floor, focusing on that enterprise rather than the presence of others. And they wait patiently until their humans have finally completed their conversations and prepare to move on.

Yesterday was another day of full-blast sun. The sun so bright it's almost blinding. And of course as usual I forgot to wear sunglasses; the glare can be blinding. But when the sun is viewed against the screen of the forest trees it is also beautiful beyond words.